Prism

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The holes in the fabric of our existence

Is a daunting reality

Heavy on my head as it plagues my beliefs
Perpetuated by the weight of wonder
On what the uncanny may hold

The uncanny of the meaning of life

The benightedness of death

The purpose of existing.
The possibility that everything…

Everything every told

Everything ever read

Even the notion of salvation

And the truths of our reality…

Is a lie.

The instability in the foundation of our origin

Poses questions of authenticity

Am I who they say I am?

Or am I what I claim to be?
Science vs. Religion
Bill Nighy vs. Ken Ham
Ceaseless ideologies built on unsubstantiated faith

Sends chills down my spine

The black and grays of the many "what ifs"
Only to be brushed off by "whatevers"

For failure to collate answers

Of conflicting theories surrounding me

Yet I've accepted the grand scheme of things
Accepted that it is bigger than me
Because I too, am just a speck of dust in the galaxy

Yet my thirst for knowledge will not be quenched

By the hypothesis of men

Or the writings the claimed were not of them.

Olsfred James 2015©