Existence
Does your innocence reject wisdom
as you, twiddling your fingers, are
gazing into the middle,
where you are now?
Sometimes I wander,
twiddling my feet,
twiddling my thoughts
as I peer at your face.
Is that, too, the middle?
I even light a candle,
fear tears but shed none.
So strange are you that
I wonder whether you are
here
or I am
there.
What on earth is existence?
(3 Jan 2023)
Copyright © Andrew John | Year Posted 2023
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