Tuesday, April 29, 2025

The Question is the Reply

 


 




When the storm is dangerously calm

The birds and the beasts react in a sense

As they do when a predator hovers across the sky

Or the lion’s stilled intention is at hence.

 

The air is saturated with the chemistry of fear.

Cortisol heightens the will to survive

And the internal alarms are set off to high

As pails pour out the adrenaline to keep alive.

 

Listen especially when the day is strangely quiet.

Notice that the sun has no shadows to measure

And that the shapeless clouds linger the day.

Ask why Arcadian tulips appear to be a colorless nature.

 

The universe is the totality of emptiness

Interrupted by the light of creation

And time is given a meaning without limit;

Expansion by cosmic inflation!

 

Will existence fall upon its own weight;

Has humanity accelerated its passing end?

At the sacrifice of all available resources;

Will societies and cultures offend?

  

In the delicate balance between need and want:

Will human inflation become the fatal demise?

Nature abhors a stasis; stagnation summons change.

Will expanding intelligence be an inflationary force to realize?

 

The compromise seems left to poets and rebels

To insist on the questions and not accept the politician’s lie.

Humanity’s new crutch is finding an artificial wonder

To ask, to answer and to store the reply.

 

The moment is absorbed in silence

Reframing by category and assignment.

A given truth is in the dying of the light

For truth is a reluctant lover waiting for change’s enticement.








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