I live in the recesses of mind
Confined to the body
Waiting to explode into eternity.
I see, I hear, I touch through corporal senses,
Give birth to weary questions
Blinded by the foggy labyrinth of my brain;
Dead, synaptic end. Refrain!
I am more than the sum of my genetic pool,
DNA harp strings playing wise man or fool.
More than a moral or ethical seal
Stamped to a culture demanding appeal.
I am more than the pattern of my design
Schooled by clocks that tick and chime
And tell me when to go and where
As if the rules we share/create
Will lead us to that pristine state
We dare to long for.
"Alas, NO!' I say.
What we can fathom isn't day,
And Truth is more than you or I
Can imagine.