The wise scientist is the one who admits they don’t know,
Not the pompous one with the well-kept, long beard.
It’s the one who accepts gray, where truths are sown,
Not the one who seeks fame, or to be revered.
For the world holds mysteries we still fail to explain,
From megaliths crafted by civilizations past,
With exquisite precision, so puzzlingly strange,
Working rocks so hard, of weights so vast.
To the NDEs, UAPs, and dense dark matter,
And SETI’s silence after scanning for beings,
And how we observe how the double-slit scatters,
To the arrow of time and what the soul means.
Uncomfortable faults in our daily worldview,
Big holes of knowledge, with pegs we can’t find.
Where some tape over with religions and theories,
I am just humbled—and keep an open mind.