unskeptic

The convalescents

For manifestly you have long been aware of what you mean when you use the expression being. We, however, who used to think we understood it, have now become perplexed. Plato
Whereof one cannot speak, one must pass over in silence. -Wittgenstein

We are bats, you and I.
We see through blind eyes.
Our sonar is trial and error.
Thrown and anxious
unable to step outside language
we grasp being best
by passing it over and saying nothing.
A Zen koan in the ear of a bat I sing to you.
For metaphysics along with its posited architect died.
We are late to the funeral,
slowed by traditions that stands joys on their heads
and left
with three laws of logic, assorted corollaries
and blind subjectivity to build a new life from.
You ask with distress,
What?!? Were hanging by our feet? We cant be we are digital.
But
One can
be counted blessed in this life,
little gargoyles.
By herculean means,
Simply recite this before you pass into the void
.again, from the beginning.