Scientific Method
A poem of metaphysics

The optimist in me believes That Yes strides confidently Into the sunshine While No lurks behind hanging vines, Waiting in the shadows To trip us up When it gets the chance.
The pragmatist in me believes The Scientific Method Lays bare reality. A cold lens revealing a hard truth. Proof lies in failing to fail. No tripping allowed Even one damn time.
Like Zeno, we inch up to the truth, never quite reaching it, never Eliminating all doubt. Yes is tentative, in need of tending.
But if a theory fails even a single test, it is false, instantly, Beyond any doubt. No is immediate and final.
Her Yes was sunshine on my face. Confident Yes. Forever Yes. But I too learned that, in reality, Fragile Yes must be reaffirmed Every day won and re-won.
So when the relentless assault Of time and restlessness, Those creeping vines, Eventually brought forth her No, I knew it was immediate and final.





