One day I might know

One day I might know

But nothing is certain,

When even living

Is a doubtful state of mind.

The truth,

Or something close to it

Seems to exist,

As a bottomless glass,

Failing to hold water.

In a spiritual daze

It hovers before us.

A mote of dust,

Beautiful, spinning

On a thermal of air,

Caught in the light

From the window.

Rising slowly,

Until a gust of wind

Blows it through

The eye of a storm,

And scatters molecules

Across the universe.

Where they drift,

Until the reformation,

When new truths

beckon.

We trample over

The old ways.

Leave less than our mark

And sign our names

In the visitors book,

With a paragraph or two

As a footnote,

In the vain hope we will

Be remembered.

Only to find

The world

And its new truths

Have evolved,

Into a future.

Without us.

And whilst this

Might be a time

Of multiple possibility,

Nobody cares

For the old days.

.