Transcend Reality

In twilight's embrace, where shadows play, 

Lies the question we muse, by night and day: 

What is reality, a sage once said, 

A fabric woven, or merely a thread. 

Is it matter, a dance of quarks in the void, 

Or a symphony of laws we cannot avoid? 

Is it the physicist’s equation, the poet's rhyme, 

Or is it the painter’s vision, transcending time. 

Is reality what the clocks do tell, 

Or deeper waters, where moments swell? 

Is it the pulse of love, the ache of dreams, 

The silent echo of mountain streams? 

What clock can measure the thoughts that soar, 

Or map the realms where spirits roar? 

We reach for stars, yet hold a hand, 

In this mysterious, dual land. 

So, what is real, is what you see, 

And also, what lies in possibility. 

For in the end, a layered song, 

Played on strings where we belong.