Looking Out Toward Paradise

There is a certain calm about tomorrow when nothing is quite known.

A serenity that one can not overestimate that which is not seen.

Through rose colored glasses we peer forward into infinity,

And for once we are all guilty of similar ignorance.

For tomorrow as it is is not known from you to I.

It cannot be sorted or fathomed by gods or by science.

It can hold the greatest damage and it can hold the greatest joy.

and it can fill every Neanderthal with aspirations or anxieties.

In those fragments of light that are so called the future,

There is a wish, and a hope and a prayer

That skis over the immediacy of our now's

And we find ourselves hopeful but also find ourselves afraid.

In that abyss of darkness, that oh so welcoming water over that edge,

We can see whatever it is we want to see, and we can claim to know

what it is none of us really know,

and that is of what tomorrow could bring, or should

Not of what it will.

For that is still the greatest mystery left to us.