A friend penned this thoughtful, short poem, one of the best philosophical poems I’ve ever read. And it rhymes. As Robert Frost said, writing free verse was like “playing tennis without a net.”
by Sylvia Jane Wojcik / May 29, 2025
Said a philosopher a long time ago,
“Man by nature desires to know.”
From concerns casual and practical
To meta-mysteries beyond the natural –
An infinity of questions flow.
How does the world work
and how do we know it?
What’s good, what’s fair
and why do we care?
And why all this fuss
about the moral calculus?
Does God really exist
or is He just a myth
To save us from death
and forgive us our sins with?
But the biggest question of all
Is the reason for our being.
Why are we here? It just isn’t clear!
What’s the point of our blood, sweat, and tears
When death robs us of all we hold dear?
Some say love, some an Almighty above;
Perhaps it’s the bliss of pure experience,
Or could it be something less mysterious?
In a world without ultimate meaning,
A smile, a touch, can be so redeeming.
Whatever be its shape or form,
Having a purpose for existence
Seems essential to persistence.
Through all the clatter, all the chatter,
What we want most is to matter.
I began my interest in writing as a poet, writing mostly rhyme,and, later free verse. My brother always favored free verse, and still does. Free verse is, to me, largely a matter of story telling. Rhyme pleases the eye and soothes mind and heart. I think both forms are pleasing. It all depends on what one wants to bestow on the reader. No, I do not write poetry anymore.