Floundering on the Foundering
I was told I began—
so I assume I am.
No proof—
only a feeling.
Only learned assumptions,
repeated until they
find a foothold, and hold.
Ground gives—
footing slips and slides
taking sides.
Floundering with truth
devoid of scaffolds
the self loosens its chains.
What’s held firm dissolves
to what this is, now it questions.
Failing again and again—
the whys and wherefores
outlive the free fall
without a chute,
without a ripcord.
Certainty petrifies—
the floundering
within the foundering.
What the teacher taught stands tall
until something breaks it—
and even then,
doubt breaks what's real,
into a simple reflex reactions.
Beauty—
held in the eye
vies with
eye-spy-with-my-little-eye
to catch the beholder's drift.
And in that loosening—
the floundering deepens,
the foundering drifts away
from the its mooring
on the foundation.
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