By guest author Connor Prendergast
Is our hubris
So unconquerable
That we truly believe
Our words - our ideas -
Can even begin to
Allude to the vastness,
The complexity
And majesty of
Where we are?
How we are?
The greatest poets
Are tongue-tied.
The greatest thinkers,
Philosophers,
Yield only great
Questions.
And yet, how
Is there hope?
We sit, so obviously
Paraplegic,
At the base of
Olympus Mons.
So inexplicably,
We realize our tears,
Rising geysers,
Are products of
Our immense joy.
Is our hubris
That we truly believe
Our words - our ideas -
Can even begin to
Allude to the vastness,
The complexity
And majesty of
Where we are?
How we are?
The greatest poets
Are tongue-tied.
The greatest thinkers,
Philosophers,
Yield only great
Questions.
And yet, how
Is there hope?
We sit, so obviously
Paraplegic,
At the base of
Olympus Mons.
So inexplicably,
We realize our tears,
Rising geysers,
Are products of
Our immense joy.
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