How do we know?

How do we know when a flower wants to be a flower?

How do we know if a horse wants to be a worm?

Or a giraffe wants to have short legs?

How do we know what moves the very heart

When heartfelt cannot yet be moved?

How can we tell your steady hand is steady

Is it just the other hand is holding on?

How do we know that waking is a call to arms

Or one more day of landmines, traps and obstacles?

It could be easier to ski down clouds than smile

It could be easier to walk a tight rope

Than bend down and put on socks and shoes.

How do we know that blood is red or blue?

And who gave such importance to the hue?

How do we know who is white or black?

Or red or grey or several shades of either way?

How do we judge a day, because its end is

In every way a long, long way away.

How do we know we’re on the path

Of gold or strength or right or wrong?

And will we know when beneath our feet

Our world will magically end.

How do we know our wounded heart

Is doing slavery in some other land,

That we are paying for our part in

History’s book of troubles or have we found

Some wisdom we can easily turn round.

How do we know if our words fly like the swallow

To another land and breath new life into the sand?

How do we know when we have changed a soul,

From darkness on to a lighter road to roll.

How do we know the moon is but a sphere

When every time it’s face unchanging is.

How do we know the other side is not so bright?

The ‘Dark Side of the Moon’ were they right?

And how do we know that if we travel

All will be revealed, or if our journey’s road’s the goal;

Or to stay at home, and stoke the fire of dreams?

How do we know what time is?

For when it is short it hurries on,

And when it is long it drags the very second out and out

Until we think the ending is too long.

How do we know what death is?

Is it just a phase that every human life is passing on

Or just one throw, to be what we’ve become.?

How do we know? How will we ever know?


Caroline Baldock©2020