I think about existence
And I look for what holds true.
I feel assured that I exist
But I've questions about you.

The "Row your boat" philosophy
Does nothing for my quest.
If I have dreamed this all along,
Why do I still need rest?

Forget about the tangibles.
Let's give that stuff a pass
And think of love and beauty;
Those things that have no mass.

The mountain seems so beautiful
Against an azure sky.
You might see it as a pile of rocks
Within your pale mind's eye.

Did I invent that beauty just
To fit some need of mine
Or does beauty have an essence
No matter how you might opine?

And what of love? Did it exist
Before it struck your heart?
Well now you know, without it,
Your world would fall apart.
                        rc