Consciousness speaks
every word
into being.
Breathes life
into thoughts
and ideas.
Sparks fire
to life
inside.
How could we ever become numb
to such wonder?
What could pull us down
to set aside miracles?
A lie,
so well spoken
that it even deceives
the lips
of they who speak it.
A song,
so attractively arranged
that it fools
even the composer.
We fit
into the thin line
on the horizon
that delineates
land from sky.
All our existence
on a postage stamp size piece
of rock
in the middle of silence.
We shouldn’t matter,
yet somehow,
we do.
How do we reconcile
our lives
with that of stars?
How do we make sense
of making sense
of any of it?
What good does it serve us
to calculate the mass
of gas giants
hundreds of light years away?
What utility
in smashing atoms
all the way back
to the dawn of creation?
What is thought?
Who are we?
Strange creatures
but only passing similarity
with anything we’ve seen
until now.
Does this change
when something comes down
from the sky?
Does it answer our “Why?”
One blink
of the all-seeing eye.
Our hearts,
our thoughts,
our minds
don’t fit into
the background noise
we hear.
Our voices clear,
our words alive.
What place do we play
in time?
Do we find out
when we die?
Or when we break the plane,
that thin line
that separates
land from sky.
DJR – 2023
