Dull Blade

I can’t trust
In Occam’s Razor
Because things are just
Never that easy,

Like a truth
Without any meaning
Just because proof
May exist

For explaining
Those easier reasons
In miracles seen
Almost daily

Where life itself
Carries purpose
Outside those roles
We assume

As dreams endure
Despite doubts
Or losses earned
Facing silence

When accepting
The science that’s given
Rather than testing
Such faith –

Our man-made hopes
Falling short
With each choice
Some synthetic acceptance

Of expired drugs
Feeling hollow
While new ones numb
Every sense

Under data
Imposed by afar
Though up close
Defies every number

If engaging God
Lost inside us
Whose presence alone
Breaks their rule,

Always certain
But hardly believed
Since evidence fails
Deeper purpose

No dull blade
Could eviscerate
Too readily learned
And defined.

  • J. Pigno

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