I could do this forever
And never stop finding
And losing
What I seek,
As maybe it’s only
The undiscoverable seeker
For which I search
And pine;
It can’t be mine
But I still I keep trying
To get at it,
No matter what.
Is this a habit?
Or something else,
Of which,
I know naught?
I only know
That I don’t know,
Or perhaps
I don’t even know that!
And what is this ‘knowing’ business anyway?
I ask the same old questions,
Re-tracing
That ancient well-worn track,
Upon which I see
The footprints
Of all the natural philosophers
That have ever been or will be,
Oh my!
What a thicket of thinking
I have stumbled into again,
Sometimes it’s such fun
And at other times, so frustrating.
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