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Everyone looks familiar,
I've seen each face before,
What's the value of a human life?
Perhaps zero? Perhaps more?
We each create a little newness,
Though it vanish into something we call time.
People are not logic machines,
We do not make our decisions by pure logic,
We have innate influences we are not even aware of,
Logic needs a starting point, a place to stand, axioms.
There is a subtle guiding force behind things,
Not coercive or corrupting of our free will,
But bearing tendencies towards the good, the true, and the beautiful.
Life is messy, life is inscrutable,
And maybe, just maybe, life has meaning:
We must gamble in the face of Reality.
The mystery is Total.
I am torn apart, I am torn apart,
I want science, logic and reason,
I also want emotion, romance and spirit,
The only thing to hold me together is
That sense of purpose:
Might as well call it God.
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