Let Us Argue a Thing to Death

The quest has become consuming,
a desire to try and find meaning,
satisfaction in events of the day
and some signal there are others
who mimic our thoughts and ideals.

It is elusive, this walk upon the shore
of dogma,
a crusade to detect the sigh
of a lover in the mist,
to find a specific pine needle in a forest,
to detect the echoing chime of truth
in a politician’s promises.

Frustrating, this insistence on symbiosis,
maddening as the pursuit of happiness
or attempts to understand women,
fruitless as the anger which causes
us to throw pebbles at the sky.

We argue with the wind,
unable to change another’s mind,
much less the world.
Plus,
the words are always more limber
in my mind than how they appear on the page
or escape from my mouth.

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