We move, but what of progress?

The musical branches of our lives

Intertwined in fitful starts and stops

We live each passing day

Barely holding onto what we hope we haven’t lost

This time is gone by is ever increasing doses

Of the things we can’t live without,

But never knew we didn’t have.

Now we trade our time, our minds,

Our souls are in the balance, for something

That will fill up the next second, the next minute,

The next hour, the next day, the next week.

What do we get in retrun?  What to we get for our sacrafice?

It was once thought credible to sacrafice intellect

at the altars of faith, giving reason over to belief,

As if that could calm the storms of uncertainty.

Now, having explored intellect, reason, logic, and science,

We found the fears still wanting. 

We have sacraficed faith on the altar of science,

and found our lives to be wanting.  The emptiness

Grows and expands to reach the end of time.

We are taught to see eternity as a number,

able to be known.

We sought to eliminate the wilds of reality.

We sought to eradicate the places where the unknown

still lived and thrived.

Now we find, as many do, that the wilds are what make us.

The wilderness, the uncertainty, these are the things that we crave most.

We need the unknown, as much as we need the known.


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