Logic Falls Apart Everything there is – isn't. Everything there was – wasn't. This is the glory and joke of a human life And some of the reason for age old love and strife. All that's arisen – really hasn't. All that subsides – really doesn't. How can I take your hand and then describe, Whatever has cycled to death will remain alive. Many the worlds and dimensions, thick as sand; Shall we not say they are infinite, exceedingly grand? This is the reason the hanged man and his rope Are only a signpost where dangles a hidden hope. I cannot know if this universe shall end, Or if it will find new birth in the circle's bend. But all that I think, I know, will the grave reject And your thoughts, as well, will have multitudinous effect. What does the multiverse hold of the physics or string? Are there collisions which start the beginning of things? One force I know which extends past the borders of space Is the ignorant longing which motivates our race. Carl Estrin
A poem on the strangeness of where we live.