Disbelief, Suspended
In a real way,
It is the suspension
Of disbelief,
And not perception…
Not pure logic
Or old superstition,
That serve as our
Ultimate foundation.
It is the way
We limit our purview.
How we sort things;
Give what matters its
due.
This is a pen.
I am I; you are you.
Black and white…
Cause and effect are
true.
These constructions,
Of which we are so
proud,
They only hint
At what is behind the shroud.
It all has God,
Sitting high in his
cloud—
If he is real—
Slyly laughing out
loud.
But we shake on that
deal
Countless times every day,
When we believe what’s
real
In the words we say.
We choose to believe:
Not to be a skeptic.
Not to be a cynic.
Not to disbelieve.
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