A Stranger Asked a Question of Me
A stranger walked up
And asked of me
"Where in the world are you?"
I paused for a second, then answered him this:
Oh where in the world am I?
I think I got lost again,
Probably somewhere along the lines of my pen.
But am I even in the world to begin?
I mean,
Body i am, but what is the world?
The planet we live on...?
That seems such a small world.
Or is there no world,
My minds in my pen,
Is the world as insubstantial,
As the breeze or the wind?
So I'm not in a world,
Not physically at least.
Well I am in the world,
But my mind's not at least.
My mind has its own world,
The one for of mentioned,
That world is in color,
Of unseen dimension.
Emotions exist there,
But so does the mind
Though on different planes of existence,
Though both intertwined.
You asked me where I am,
And I told you the truth;
As to where I am, I have not a clue.
So now I have a question and an answer for you;
If you know the answer, why ask if you knew?
The question you want is different though dear,
You want to know where you are,
So you ask us unclear,
Of the answer you seek
Or the meaning to find.
So find your own meaning,
Since I've now told you mine.
Copyright © Christie Morris | Year Posted 2011
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