are we made
fools of by each other
missing the point
with every other word
expectations that you
can understand me
i can understand you
and that we all know
what we think each knows
do we control what we recall
from each encounter gone awry
the things done right or wrong
hitting the bell to hear the gong
winner take all till it's taken back
like ants we march
into the day thinking we know
what we are about
done so often
it's done by habit
the smile, the frown
the goodbye kiss
the good morning nod
the glance at the clock
lunch time bed time
like the dwarfs
off to work and home again
life lived on the edge
of nothingness
with no real quest
just barely a guess
at what we are
this poem is that proverb crying in the wilderness
of the soul. it poses all the essential questions, for souls to answer in their own way. a powerful fish you've reeled in my friend, a keeper for certain.