matters are settled;
we think we have the facts.
But what we think of as truth
may only be
the middle—or even
the beginning—
and brief as
dew on morning grass.
Can you picture the universe
before it was set
into motion?
How about the Earth
devoid of all creatures;
before it even had its oceans?
It's far simpler to hope
in a dream
to glimpse
the ancient races
and their poets: the joys
and burdens they would carry;
the paths that they would trod.
Next time you seek
a final answer, think first
of all the wildly different
names they must have had
for god.
