The highest activity a human being
can attain is learning for understanding,
because to understand is to be free.
― Baruch Spinoza
What he believed; he knew.
What he knew, was true.
This for him was pristine,
a church bell in a light snow
layering metaphysics.
Once replete, the contagious
pact with reality reworked,
the truth poser rang,
pealed the sanctity of doubt.
God is substance,
the laws of the universe,
and certainly not an individual
entity or creator.
The universe could not have
been produced by any other means
or in any other order.
It is not by free will that an infant
seeks the breast.
God is not looking out and
determining, it is the indifference.
With an immoral aroma
of almost rain,
a sickness unto death—
with age-defying resolve,
sat him down to one riddle at a time.
Craig Kirchner is retired, and thinks of poetry as hobo art. He loves the aesthetics of the paper and pen, has had two poems nominated for the Pushcart, and has a book of poetry, Roomful of Navels. After a hiatus he was recently published in Decadent Review, Hamilton Stone Review, Wise Owl, Chiron Review, 7th-Circle Pyrite, Dark Winter, Spillwords, Fairfield Scribe, Unlikely Stories, The Main Street Rag and several dozen others.