The School of Athens

Once I marveled at the bright blue sky
as philosophers gathered in geometric halls
to argue reason and balance.
I never could abide reason.
Instead, I was lost in false perspective
pigments whose splash sent my heart
soaring past do or do not.
Have you ever once just stopped asking why?
Just once became a conductor for the universe; removed
the rubber casings of our soles (souls?) to feel
grass green and cold between spring toes or mud
slick like a child from a womb give birth to amazement?
Socrates asked us to balance our souls without ever
not once explaining that our soul is not the shadow
but a spark that throws shadows into darkness
creating a world electric wrought, each our own.
Mystery is an experience, not a puzzle.  Solutions
are dead things with no hope for growth or change.
So tonight I listen to the mystery as it grows
subtle beneath flesh and bone like a prayer
praising, not reason, but awe for what can be
when so many reasons tell us that hemlock
will stop our breath.