Conmuse

Faith offers answers you can’t hardly question.
Science asks questions you can’t hardly answer.
Poetry confuses answers and questions.

That’s too cute, but there’s a swing to it, part fact,
Part nothing but abstract wordy rhythming,
And that’s what we mean when we say we’re confused.

We are not the laws of physics. We are not
The full moon setting in silhouetted pines,
Not God’s ghost in the lake. But here they are us.