Robert Fulton Laird

I Started

Why do we have two eyes
not one, not three
why can I only run
while birds fly past me?

Why do I have to eat
breathe in and out, sleep and wake
see the moon, then, sun again
it's so surreal, this brief partake?

See, what I'm asking is—
what's this all about
why can't I be like others
not want so to find this out?

Know, that I had joined the masses
accomplished their goals with pride
when all along, upon reflection
I was unfulfilled inside

Oh bumble bee, so sure and busy
do you ponder life at all
oh poppy, in your orangest moment
is there more to natures call?

For I am struck with wonder
why things are, why I do care?
when most see the moon for weather
I, in awe, just stand and stare

What can become of me, in question
compared to those that daily, do
are they better off or I
prepared for slowly, something new?

Let it be known when I expire
with more than my passing could end
uncontrollably did I, amazement,
inquisitiveness, apprehend

For I would rather be profound,
than do what others must
be more, than live and die
than have my passion end in dust

On this ball, day and night
future, present and past
I pursue this safer view
swifter than birds flying fast

For I am satisfied with knowing
more than what two eyes can see
or the cycles that this place
can make us deal with; do for me

Here I go, prim and proper
accepted— outwardly insane
while way within I hold a key
that surely turns; thus, skipping pain

So, remember, that I bothered
dared internally, unintentionally deft
and found the reason, yes, our purpose
back when I started— not as I left