The seeker’s chest is heavy: A ribcage of fathomless doubt.

His heart always opens onto a cosmos of fathomless doubt.

 

People think his whirling feet are silent; they speak.—

An evocation of experimentation reaching an apex of fathomless doubt.

 

His whirling feet never tear up dead leaves because they are not

a devastating force. They just recreate beats of fathomless doubt.

 

Birds can’t measure the extent of his feet’s refusal because

their whirls are reminiscent of a philosophy of fathomless doubt.

 

His chest is heavy.—Although a burden to his body and soul, nothing

can empower him only sinking into seas of fathomless doubt.

© 2017, Ali Znaidi

 Originally published on 12/07/2016 in Harbinger Asylum, an independent Houston-based poetry journal published by Transcendent Zero Press. 

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