The Futility of Philosphising

What is Life?
The Philosopher mused
As he sat all alone
In the wood.

And is there a difference
He went on to ponder
Between what is Bad
And what is Good?

And as he sat there
The sun overhead
Moved steadily across the sky

And the day-light fled
And the night-time sped
Di-urnally on by.

And the living things all around him
Biologically, went through their seasons
But still the Philosopher silently sat
Searching for Cosmic Reasons

And the years turned into decades
And the decades rolled on by
And the sun continued its neverending journey
Westwards across the sky

Now the decades have turned into centuries
And the Future is rapidly shrinking
But still, there in the midst of the wood
The Philosopher’s skeleton
Sits
Thinking.

___________
©John Steele, 1989, 2008
Published in issue 1 of Bentilee Voices magazine, Spring 1989.

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