The right volume is dispensed
In a standing glass of honesty and accuracy.
The bench gathers simple liquids and mysterious tools
That will decode the way to that answer
In a successive repetitive dance.
Walking head-up my way
on this path of question marks
No fixed point is here to grab.
Stability and support is found
In the answers you reach
By reading, asking, experimenting, doubting
And feels like running fast on a trembling rope.