Where is the perfect answer, to a perfect life,
is it in a book at bedtime or discovered in the bath?
Where shall we find that answer, to our heartfelt prayers,
in a domed cathedral or darkly lurking under stairs?
Where is that sovereign wisdom, to answer all our doubts,
is it spoken on the telly or from a soapbox shouted out?
Where shall I go to find it, that most sought for glint of gold,
the answer and true meaning to what this life can hold?
And if you are still reading, do you hope this poem speaks,
of the answer and the reason for all things that we do meet?
All that I can say to you; and this I know for sure,
it is the perfect question that will surely open up that door.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.