I heard gongs when there was no palace.
I sensed wrongs where there was no malice.
I averred that worshipping a chalice
is rather odd, although that might be callous.

Seems like all reports of holy visions
are met by a chorus of derisions.
Who amongst us is fit for decisions?
Answers multiply into divisions.

I heard silence in the midst of sound.
Sanity’s abandoned higher ground.
When reality is all around,
elsewhere will be always where I am found.

Seems like science and its many fissions
set the world up for severe collisions.
How is one to heal these deep incisions?
Answers multiply into divisions.