into your perfect equation

you say it does not exist

Because you can not pick it apart

piece by piece

to find the tiny source that makes it tick

you say it is not real

Let me ask you, Oh man of science

When did you become our God?

Perhaps when you “proved” the non-existence

of the previous deity?

When did your tools become the only source of truth

in this misguided world?

When did your hand

become the holder of the holy grail?

You hold your textbook like a bible

your ruler like a scepter

your podium a pulpit

As we sit in our desks

emptied of all judgment

and look to you

for the answers

you can not give

The way our ancestors did

kneeling, heads bowed in admiration

toward a man who said he knew the truth

and they did not

When will we learn

to look inside

to search the uncharted depths

of our aching souls?

There

in the space where time becomes eternity

where self becomes other

and Love becomes everything

Only there will we find Truth