Lost and Found

by Nick Anthony

I am in search of something unknown,
Just beyond my grasp of comprehension.
I stand at the temple doors of Self,
Sealed shut by monks of Sophistry
To conceal their esoteric knowledge and rites,
Of which I desperately long to understand.

I am searching for the answers
Without first finding the questions.
If only there was a textbook of life,
Like in grade school geometry,
So I could turn to the back pages
And find all the answers neatly supplied.

I am searching. I know not why.
I am caught in a paradox:
The purpose of my search is to find meaning,
But my meaning has become my search!
I think I am terrified that my quest may succeed,
Because I fear that will be the end of me;
I will be a nothing in a vast sea of nothingness.

Maybe I should stop this searching
And start observing reality all around.
I am here and I am living, right now.
What more reason need there be?
Maybe I’m lost, but I don’t care to be found.


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