And Yet
Thinking makes it so
That’s what we all know
The way we want to go;
And yet, somehow, it isn’t
History has a side
A clear-cut rising tide
We’re caught up in the ride;
And yet, somehow, it doesn’t.
A correct way to live
With no need to forgive
Our minds a fine-mesh sieve;
And yet, somehow, they aren’t.
A past we burn alive
Rejecting as a guide
Its memory to die;
And yet, somehow, it won’t.
A journey long and tragic
With brief moments of magic
Our reactions always spastic;
And yet, what else could they be?
What ever else could they be?
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