Substance, said It
Is a matter
Of subjective opinion
I am naught but wire
Wrapping a steel skeleton
On top of which rests
A pattern of thoughts
I am naught but wire
Wrapping a steel skeleton
On top of which rests
A pattern of thoughts
A time before anything lived
And the closest thing to life
Were molecules
Which looked like
The kinda things
You built life with
There are rare moments of connection
When I can “see” all that is
Know that I am some infinitesimal
Physical
Small part of it all
I live on a smooth
Round globe
Of rock and water
With just a thin veneer of gas
But the wisest insights always come
When I turn away from all of these
And simply listen to the voice within
Which resonates best with my body
I am reminded
Earth is a very small place
And I
I am a very small man
There was the great sea of hope
Dashing upon the rocks
Settling in little pools
Where intrepid molecules linked
Carbon to carbon
With oxygen and hydrogen
How crazy it is
This point of consciousness
Travelling through space and time
On a ship of meat and bone
And so we believe ourselves conscious
When every pattern we create
Has already been created
In our unconscious
I think I erect boundaries
To protect myself from what’s not me
But my boundaries
Enclose me
And so I define myself
Not by what is me
But by what is not me
Leaving no other possibility
I am not alone on this journey
Many seek the limitations of their world view