Because we want answers
Attached
To the things that are not real
After all
Our suffering
Takes place in a bowl
Of no reply,
Just the music and the dancing,
No inkling why
Except the way the patterns feel
Inside.
Compassion for us is denied,
Whatever gazes are grouped above the dome
Or meek calls we make to a home.
It is something for life
Not for us,
The turning we cause,
The sweetest rewards
Learned sour.