fauxcroft

We search for meaning

We search for life

In universal plight,

To see if we are alone

From our earthly home.

Truth is that  maybe those who we seek

Were always here from the start,

And maybe  we just aren’t awake enough

To see just where they are.

Maybe we live in a conscious illusion

In a different space and time,

Somewhere else our body dwells

And real life does reside.

Maybe death is going home

Out of this illusory life,

Maybe over many lives that we live

We cross many voids.

Interdimenstional travelling

Conscious astral trips,

Maybe we are the aliens

That we are trying to prove exist.

So many questions that we should ask

But maybe we ask the wrong ones,

Maybe the answers we are searching for

Are never to be known.

Our thirst for knowledge makes us grasp at everything we see

But may the knowledge we should look for

Is hitherto unseen.

We search externally for answers there

Like a blind man without a cane

Truth is if we stopped and listened 

The truth will be seen so plain,

That even the blind man would see this truth

And we would find some grace.