There Was One Poem by Michael Walkerjohn

If ever; IAM
of an imagination
AMI what is real?

Illegitimate
an uncertainty perhaps
not sinew and bone?

Simply a substance
based upon 'faith' and that 'hope'
the, "butterfly" flown?

An 'impermanence'
of pleasant conversations
perhaps, methinks not!

Reincarnated
alert and ever seeking
that 'song', waving light?

Or, some somnolence
a scent of 'hope' flowering
above what is 'god'?

IAM transfigured
juxtaposed within all minds
here in time, presumed...

born within the mass
intently 'willed', to heal all
souls permanently...

thought, from dawns dusting'
transubstantiation; I think...
and you, think also

ancient metaphors
held tightly upon the husks
of physical flesh...

that exists in thought
an impermanence, or naught
transience thus bought...

through the 'sheeple's thoughts
paid for and brought forth; of rot
in an opinion...

questioning yet this
"IAM, therefore I exist"
what 'webs'; we each twist!

Scissors, rock, paper
forever this circle jerked
faith, hope, flower, stone...

wind, rain, sun, and moon
mankind's interpretations
boon, or bane and doom?

What say you, good sir
"senses are inadequate"
what else then, is there?

to distinguish facts
from humanity's faux truths
but resigned beliefs...

manipulated
through wickedness and control
'that' divine design

or simply this is
how 'the heavens', do so roll
philosophically?

The mind exists, but
truly does not think at all
of; if there was 'one'...