The light shines down upon the world
And I know it to be something
Fully explained by science
Yet this morning
It feels like love
The lighting scorches the ground
And I know it be something
With reasons for being
Yet this evening
It feels like scorn
My soul clings to my flesh
And I know not what it is and
I ponder disregarding it
For lack of evidence of its tangibility
Yet this day
It feels like all I have and
If I am mistaken
I feel not guilty nor the fool
For detecting the charade
Is far beyond my means
Gene G. McLaughlin 2005
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