Whether from space or terra firma I feel minuscule;
A pawn in some cosmic game in which I am an illegitimate player.
Who is this phantom puppet master pulling my strings?
I haven’t a scintilla of an idea…
I never have–
Though I’ve never ceased wondering.
All this palaver of an omnipotent Being perplexes me.
Where is He,
Who is He,
I have not a clue.
I’ve spent my entire life grazing on the spiritual texts,
Looking for answers to the eternal question.
I suppose that it has not been all for naught however,
As I have become inure to many of the horrors of this world because of them.
Even so the questions come in waves
Like brontides they shake me to my very core.
Unnerving and unsettling are they.
As another day closes with nary an answer
I suppose I shall sit in my darkened room;
Pondering the meaning of life
While I am bathed in the fragrance of fresh cut chrysanthemums
And enjoy a relaxing spot of tea.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~