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?