If oceans were puddles and puddles were men
We’d live to be twenty, but wish to be ten.
Our questions would end before they began
Like ships to a shore that hadn’t left land.
Splendid sun cannot well show
Before the moon is down
If son is born before dad’s voice
Then mothers have no sound.
Silly mind, you use yourself
To nudge a slumb’ring snail
It’s wrapped itself a riddle
Your ship has long set sail.
What’s to stop a probing mind?
Curses of poor breeding?
If you can’t stand for truth and facts,
You’ll fall for anything.