Calling Us Inward
The logic of life…
illogically pure
In search of itself,
last problem to cure
Synapses relapse,
science reclaims
The form with the formula,
washed down the drain
Structural weakness,
obsolescence defined
The clocks after midnight,
forever to chime
With finality’s ink,
used falsely to stamp
The rug underneath us,
pulled out in a rant
Our nature found larcenous,
truth we must steal
To claim for ourselves,
what our lies deem as real
While eternity listens
to this comedy play out
The light calling us inward
—past reason and doubt
(Strafford Pennsylvania: June, 2019)
Copyright © Kurt Philip Behm | Year Posted 2019
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