Philosophy

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“Philosophy”

Philosophy,
What a mind job thing,
To calculate,
Each step I take,
For the fear I may brake,
The progressive move,
Into the good,
And the continuously new,
Yet as I wonder,
In my ponder,
That which I find new,
Is of old,
And only comes,
From what I’ve,
Already been told,
As I delve into my remembrance,
And can’t stop doing this,
I come to find,
And dine,
On the words of old,
That all know,
The unspoken words,
Held within,
Yet this philosophy,
Doesn’t explain that which is amiss contained by,
My abode,
This,
The untold,
Is it my soul?
Surely that’s a no,
So what’s this hole,
I try to fill,
Some say it’s unreal,
Yet to me,
I can plainly see,
That this hole,
Or container within,
Has a fissure,
In its own domicile,
So there for,
It cannot be filled,
For it is always in a spill,
Yet what I do know,
This word philosophy,
In its three ways,
That in some day,
We shall find,
Its completeness,
The full realness,
To actually touch,
Its wholeness,
Fearless,
Undiluted comprehensiveness,
Assumptions aren’t alive,
Guessing will die,
Debating will be in a fading,
Idealism will not be a realism,
Yet as I’m writing,
I’m laughing,
Because I’m hoping,
Or just simply guessing,
At the same time,
Philosophy is the seeking of truth,
Whether it be by science,
Spirituality,
Or metaphysically,
It doesn’t matter which one it may be,
Out of the three of philosophy,
We all seek the same thing…