Lend me your eyes, if but for a moment;
I grow weary looking at the world from my own.
The imminent end grows ever nearer,
Time flying ever faster
And, in this limited life,
All I’ve ever known is what I see and hear and smell and taste and touch.
I trust not the words on a page or the sights you describe—
For I did not write these words,
I did not see these sights.
And while my mind’s eye can project these ideas
And understand them
And believe them
I will never be certain;
Unless you were to lend me your eyes,
Lend me the hand that wrote these words on the paper,
Lend me the tongue that tasted such cuisine and the ear that hears melodies.
And lend me the shoes that you walked in.
Do not fault me for my skepticism,
Fault yourself for blind belief,
When all you’ve ever known is
You once were not,
You are, and
You once will not be.
At least, that’s all I’ve ever known.
I suppose I do not know what you know,
Less you were to lend me the shoes that you walk in.
Ask me who I am and I will not say—
For I do not know who I am,
Only that I am.
A fact so simple to me,
That will never be understood by you;
Unless, I were to lend you my shoes,
And you lend me yours.
Perhaps yours will be too tight on me,
Or my heels will slip out with every step.
But I’ll smile and laugh all the same,
Even if you allow me only to take one step
Because then I’ll know I’m not alone in this existence.
And, amongst the infinite cosmos,
The billions who surround me,
The never-ending, unremembered sound of nonsense they spew,
The time that will one day run past you and I without looking back,
And all else which belittles my being
We will be, together.
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