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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.

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