Precipice
Standing on the precipice of fear and awe,
We are creatures in wonder and uncertainty.
We make all our heavens and hells.
This edge of possibility, where we search
uncharted interstellar dimensions,
the wormholes and blackholes
beyond our comprehension.
Intelligent maker of such things,
If it is evident anywhere,
then, we are surely too small to know.
Does it drift through space like
an unmoored ghostship or
is it the confluence of
universal consciousness,
the essence of intention?
Is this universe alone, or
just a branch of many on a tree?
Are we here by blueprint or
merely coincidental?
Are we a rough draft, or
Are we an objective?
It is hidden in the rain,
hidden in the particles of pebbles.
Standing on the precipice of fear and awe,
We are actualities in stupefaction on ambiguities.
We fill our voids with heavens and hells.
Yes, we are tireless seekers
poised on the precipice of the unknowable.
Copyright © Thomas Wells | Year Posted 2024
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