Sonnet On Philosophy.Sonnet 03

Before the clock began its rhythmic race,Before the clay was molded into form,What silent power filled the empty space,And held the code that generated the storm?We watch the river run from birth to death,And wonder if the water stays the same,Or if the fleeting spark of human breathIs just a ripple in a grander game.Does consciousness outlive the brittle bone,Or fade away like smoke into the breeze?Are we a fragment standing all alone,Or branches tied to universal trees?The fabric of the world is tightly spun;We question many, but the core is one.