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Spin Doctor ~ Philip Brent

Spin Doctor ~ Philip Brent

My heart seeks answers
To questions I do not know
Know to ask or answer
No, musings I do not
Understand understanding
I cannot ponder
Wonder which
I cannot conceive
Tenants of faith
I do not believe
Existence, nonexistence
Always, ever
Always never
Everywhere, nowhere
Yet always, always
In the center

A pawn of fate
Fate, a silly game
Wild or tame
In which we
Create, participate
All contained
Within the wood
And the seed
From which
All proceeds
Smallest plays
The largest
Returns in showers
Of largesse
So microscopically
Miniscule

It can barely contain
Each, all and everything
Our minds impose
Such limitations, imitations
Impositions and divisions
Which we pretend
Explain all questions
Give no answers
No questions answered
Sages, sorcerers
And necromancers
To whom we
Bow and pray
Claim to understand
What they say

As if all is planned
Canted, decanted
And recanted
Or carved
In stone obdurate
For us alone
We cannot cure it
Nor will we atone
When the cosmos
Ceases, is gone
Never more
Waits in store
Neither the question
I do not know
Nor the answer
I do not understand
Which my heart seeks

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