To the Stars
I have some important questions
About the quality of what we “believe”
Are our concepts of who we are
Rooted in our lack of questioning?
The awesome fear of ridicule
The blistering pressure to conform
The inevitable path of least resistance
And the comfort that it affords
Suppose we had always been told
That our savior is Julius Caesar
Would our religious ceremonies now conclude
With, “He came, he saw, he conquered”?
Are we unknowingly in lockstep
Like dancers in a music video?
And is the comfort of being “right”
Worth this atrophy to our souls?
Like a distorted photo negative
Shaping our most repeated stories
Is our perception that we are broken
The fuel for what we “believe”?
As goldfish have known only water
And content in their little jar
If our minds weren’t pointed in the wrong direction
Would we have already been to the stars?
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