there exists not one solid clue
an absolute zero of evidence
no white feathers floating by
no rising tables encircled
miles of words on the subject of faith, some of the logic very beautiful
the great mystery offers silence only
no hints, no measurements
a complete absence of the rising of the dial

it stems from human feelings alone
feelings that appear constant
throughout time, culture, geography
elaborate obsessions like the dynasties of Egypt
and the kingdoms of clouds, the Andes
to brute Calvinism, the softness of the Tao
the Diets of a thousand years
hammering out the corners of dogma

no philosophy rises above the other
they all result in a head on collision
with silent fact


listen, maybe non-existence isn’t so bad