Are you Sure?

[Guest guest]

Do days begin with the rising of the sun?

Or are we imagining the passing of time.

Do words begin with the utterance from lips?

And are we here speaking in riddle and rhyme?

Does the moon become full in a cycle of growth?

Or are we really moving forward into newness?

Do the seasons seek to pass us by?

Or is it just a moment of renewed freshness?

Do lovers embrace in youthful vigor?

Or are the steps of the aged as erotic in motion?

Do the elder die in their wizened old age?

Or have we only imagined their passing, in notion?

Are things really as they appear to our naked eye?

Or are things perhaps simpler and pure?

Are things really only wrong or right?

And if you are alive, are you perfectly sure?

Lynette

Lovers embrace within the fold of glorious union,

dissolve into my eyes of nothing beyond

I am.