deepundergroundpoetry.com
Why Now?
My father was a Catholic.
Took his wine, crossed himself,
Said all the pretty Latin words
Because back then it wasn’t English
Or anything else, and he remembers
How to pray in a language he can’t speak
And remembers the days when nobody even
Pretended to understand God.
And my mother’s not much of anything:
Says there’s no God, but I was here before,
The way I blinked at the world
And went back to sleep, with no curiosity,
When I was born – I have been before
But there was no God to make that true.
And my brother is an atheist:
No God, no nothing, a void out there,
And we hang in space on the side of a penny
Waiting for the slip that will take us out
Into the width of the solar system
And we breathe our last in a myriad of stars
And that’s all okay.
And then there’s me.
And I’m not the same;
I think nothing at all.
Too busy for what’s out there,
I need to know what’s in here
And that’s the world for me.
I can’t wrap my mind around
A place out there
With a man in a chair
Or cycles of people
Again and again
Coming back to the place they came to long before.
I don’t understand:
Someone talk to me.
Whether or not,
Here we are,
And here is where we’ll always be
Until we find the truth
So why hunt now?
Took his wine, crossed himself,
Said all the pretty Latin words
Because back then it wasn’t English
Or anything else, and he remembers
How to pray in a language he can’t speak
And remembers the days when nobody even
Pretended to understand God.
And my mother’s not much of anything:
Says there’s no God, but I was here before,
The way I blinked at the world
And went back to sleep, with no curiosity,
When I was born – I have been before
But there was no God to make that true.
And my brother is an atheist:
No God, no nothing, a void out there,
And we hang in space on the side of a penny
Waiting for the slip that will take us out
Into the width of the solar system
And we breathe our last in a myriad of stars
And that’s all okay.
And then there’s me.
And I’m not the same;
I think nothing at all.
Too busy for what’s out there,
I need to know what’s in here
And that’s the world for me.
I can’t wrap my mind around
A place out there
With a man in a chair
Or cycles of people
Again and again
Coming back to the place they came to long before.
I don’t understand:
Someone talk to me.
Whether or not,
Here we are,
And here is where we’ll always be
Until we find the truth
So why hunt now?
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