Poem #14
Philosophers speak mightily,
Assuming deeply
That there is some intricate meaning.
Psychologists insist its
Just survival of the fittest.
But for whom does nature insist
That humans go on anyway?
For the stars, for the blackness?
I propose that nature persists
In the same way
A shooting star does,
For no greater reason
Than to just to keep going,
We exist for the sake of inertia,
And motion ends.
Just as well,
That’s something too.
Copyright © Neil Schaaf | Year Posted 2006
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