Maybe there's no answer here
At least one we're ready to hear
No string of words will satisfy
No simple equation to edify you

Here, in the meantime
May questioning nurture life

Fear is illogical math
An impractical skill to have
Still we talk of our future til we have no voice
We'll try to outsmart it with noise

But here in the meantime
May the unknown harvest life

We're conditioned to mourn our empty glass
Long before it ever poured out our past
Though patience is always short in supply
We'll leave our farsighted worries behind

Here in the meantime
In the gospel of nearsight
May we learn to live a nourished life.