An Ekphrasis

Based on the sculpture of the great thinker:

A silent man hunches over,
His eyes and gaze betray turmoil.
Hand on chin, his brows are knit,
Yet so still does he sit.
Not a single muscle stirs.
Not a single sound is heard.

His mind at work, he closely ponders
All the hidden, unknown wonders:
Philosophy, religion, science, math,
The meaning of life, the human path.
Every answer brings new questions,
Every question stirs new thoughts.

Maybe he recalls a long-lost love,
Pictures the beauty of a flying dove,
And with nostalgia, a childhood lost,
He imagines, but at what cost?
He sees the earth, the sky serene;
The past, the present, and the unforeseen.

Or maybe, there is nothing at all;
Society's empty shell sits tall.
The ignorant fool just pretends,
A pose to cover up loose ends.
He worries about what others see.
He worries that he may never be.

Philosopher, wonderer, artist, deceiver,
We'll never know, as none's the wiser.
The true thoughts lost to the universe,
Such is the torture of the human curse.
What others think, feel, and know
Are lost to us...what a blow.

The man stirs, and with a start
His gaze heightens and his lips part,
"Now what did I have for lunch today?"