To an unmet friend:

You see the mortal world

And for you man is machine

Little more than a device

For the vagaries of evolution,

Faith is illusion, hope lacks

Weight– and love? Can love 

Be other than mere sex,

Nature’s sole mandate?

And your science now tells

You: what can I ever know?

All is a quantum topsy-turvy,

And mother nature part 

Whore, part illusionist….

Your thinking breaks all

Down to little pieces, 

And nothing matters

As matter is all while 

Science the only god

Left for us to worship.

And we are nothing, 

Not even dreams

Anymore, just bits

And pieces to be 

Examined, classified

And then ignored—

For science is all,

And faith but a 

Refuge for fools.

You are honest,

I know—you see

Yourself as just

Another machine,

Destined for decay,

Then destruction—

Your sentience but

A cruel joke told 

Yet again—and 

No one laughs.

You and I, 

We breathe,

We think, 

We live—but

You would stop

At death while

I begin there….

I sing to the eternal,

Quell not my songs,

As they rise above

The despair born 

Of your vacant

World, following  

Stars streaming

Their wondrous

Light in a dead-

Cold universe.

I sing to Eternity,

I sing to my soul!