Strange to know nothing, never to be sure
Of what is true or right or real,
But forced to qualify or so I feel,
Or Well, it does seem so:
Someone must know.
Strange to be ignorant of the way things work:
Their skill at finding what they need,
Their sense of shape, and punctual spread of seed,
And willingness to change;
Yes, it is strange,
Even to wear such knowledge - for our flesh
Surrounds us with its own decisions -
And yet spend all our life on imprecisions,
That when we start to die
Have no idea why.
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Comments1Really got me thinking, this one. The uncertainty and ignorance we all face in life, you know? We’re never really sure about anything, are we? And to be clueless about how the natural world goes about its business, kinda puts you in your place. Yet despite everything, we carry on best we can. Scary thought that even at the end, we don't really know why it's happening. Deep stuff!