Sunsets On The Sidewalk

i asked,

“where do you think we go when we die?”

you said,

“don’t be so pretentious.

does it even matter since we’re dead?”

sometimes the answers we look for are buried

in the simplicity of life but never take a step

back because we’re told to move forward

don’t dwell on the past

but what happens if we miss the answer

because we’re not looking back

sometimes i feel like i’m

standing in place while everything else is moving around

the space

not looking forward or back leaving me without answers

but is it better to not know anything than miss everything entirely

what is the basis of knowledge

but the awareness of new thought

what is learned but the knowledge

of the unknown

there’s mystery in simplicity

how can existence boil down to

a bunch of atoms smashed together

there has to be more than that

you let out an exhaustive

sigh

turned to me

and said,

“you can’t boil down existence into something so simple.”

i replied,

“then what else am i missing? if existence is

complex how can we know we exist if

the understanding of complex

topics requires the prior

knowledge leading up to the

complex concept?”

when we think we know

something how do we know

we actually do? who decides

when something is knowable

and when we can say we

know it?

you spoke,

“we just know.

you just get a feeling when you do.”

i spoke,

“that seems rather simple.”

you return your gaze

to the sunset,

“it’s actually rather complex.”

the warm summer breeze

blows the leaves on the trees

rustling them a shuffling

symphony.

the green absorbs the last bit of light.

the giver of

life

the sun sets and we rise to our feet and return to what

we believe we know.

- F.A.