Where are the answers we seek?
Are they in the oceans, old and deep…
Or atop the mountains, mighty in their sleep?
These are the questions on the tip of every tongue…tasted, sharply, after every disillusion.
Hours of conversation,
Leave us feeling even more inquisitive…like the angst of our natural thirst which only water can fulfill.
Where is that water I seek?
Without it the parched delusions make me weak.
Having travelled the entire world around,
I come back to the same point of beginning,
Feeling pleased and happy, but always, with the constant undercurrent of futility.
Do I exist for this?
To feel the relentless awareness of a truth so near but yet veiled by a mist…the mist of my mind perhaps, within the soul’s memory but away from my conscious reality.
Is that where, lying hidden, are the answers I seek?
In the oceans of my mind, old and deep…
Or atop the mountains of my memories, mighty in their sleep?