Beyond Belief

—Paul Wadey, 22.10.1984

In realms where thought’s lone profit doth seem slight,

A jest, perhaps, yet holds potential vast;

If darkened minds would wed their brooding plight

To philosophies where compassion’s cast.

What faith remains, unsullied by the taint

Of cynic’s sneer or sceptic’s cold disdain?

A shadowed knight in adamant restraint

Might shield us all, and not in vain, remain.

Behold the ancient, hooded sage’s woe,

Who spurns tomorrow by decrees of old;

Such wisdom lost, as time’s relentless flow

Doth bury truths in history’s stern hold.

Oh Socrates, your voice we yearn to hear,

Instruct us once, where faith and reason clear.

Distilled in Wisdom’s alembic, bright and pure,

Truth’s essence gleams, a beacon to the wise;

Yet oft, it serves but pride, and does obscure

The humble paths where true enlightenment lies.

The theist’s query, singular and stark,

May lead us to a reckoning most dire;

As parchment burns, our signatures embark

On journeys high, transcending mortal mire.

Behold, the seeds that ride the wind’s own song,

Proclaim our flawed descent from ocean’s womb;

Within their flight, a tale of right and wrong,

A testament to life’s perennial bloom.

Thus, through Gaia’s waves and tempests borne,

We trace our lineage, both blessed and torn.