|   |
Not A Straight Line
Conversation turns to fundamental particles
I quote old poems, you cite new scientific articles
You live in a language I don't even speak
All I have is the faith I cling to that we're all made of one,
Just the one is unique
You cry "Why not two, or three?
There is beauty and order in symmetry, in trinity"
But in this space, in this time, in this place, in this paradigm
What we toe is a full circle, not a straight line
Certainty is myth, proof's a fiction,
For every sure assertion, there's a million hidden contradictions
We keep seeing bigger and smaller than before
But we see less and less as we see more and more
The scientists cry "We've got it down to 42, to 23,
And we see ourselves reflected in perceived diversity
But in this space, in this time....
Conversation turns to numbers and infinity
Between one and two, there's no end to possibility
Multiply that by a million times or more
Still you're no closer to a limit than you ever were before
So why, why divide things so incessantly
When the ultimate beauty lies in the infinite in unity
In this space, in this time...
|
|
|
|