Snowy
morning.
Coffee
in hand.
Here I
sit.
Contemplation.
Marveling
at the
nature
of things.
Asking why?
Wondering.
Eternal
questions.
Why anything?
Eternal
endless
questions.
No answers
in sight.
None.
Wondering.
Contemplating
nonetheless.
Realizing,
the Sapiens
mind
can only
know
so much.
Finite
capacity.
Grand
knowledge
vaporous,
beyond its
scope.
Meaning,
understanding
designated
to poetry.
Insufficient
though it
may be.
- Author: John Prophet (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: April 7th, 2024 06:31
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 4
- Users favorite of this poem: Alan R
Comments3
The last few words ...
Thanks for reading Alan.
John
Love this! Very thoughtful.
Thank you Greg. Write away from one old timer to another.
John
May the nature we see be forever changing to give us wonderful views of life.
Andy
Let’s hope Andy. Thanks for reading
John
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