Lost Time
If we search through the pages of history,
Can a chapter be found that's complete?
Or has the story omitted some highlights,
Where another book contains the deceit?
Apparently, direction seems to guide this
Compass, to a past where some portions are lost.
Leaving us only to the winds of days prior,
Filled with warm breezes and chilling frost.
While this quest is universal in scope,
The individual often wonders to its place.
Such that the mind has little recollection,
Of where it went, leaving some in disgrace.
The boundaries in these efforts are limited,
Since it is rarely seen that tomorrow is to waste.
So we tend to focus our gaze in a rear-view mirror,
Where blind spots lack clarity and taste.
Beyond the current foundations, our knowledge
And insight often return like a boomerang.
Yet we still visit these far-away places in the cosmos,
Until we smack into that wall of causality,
Whimsically labeled, 'The Big Bang'.
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