Dimensions of the Kaliedoscope

Like motes of dust in the morning sky,

we are but ants in the sea of space,

How petty it must seem in the Cosmo’s view,

this thing called the human race.

Such shallow lives we live each day,

never fully to comprehend,

The abstract truth of what really lies

around the uncharted bend.

There are many ways to live one’s life –

so many things in which to believe,

And yet, so far, since time began,

it's ourselves that we deceive:

What did the Egyptians gain from their morbid art,

to make hallow of their dead,

When now we see in the unburied past

that their gods and Death have wed?

A googolplex is no closer to infinity

than is the number one,

Just as we are no closer to unveiling the truth,

with all the madness done.

Our lives with time become intertwined

with paradigms of enlightened hope;

The mosaics of thought, the cultures blend,

like dimensions of the kaleidoscope:

Phantasmagorical arrays of colors conflux,

like assimilations of worldly views.

The mind of man, the Artist, strives

to weed out the tainted hues.

But then: ‘Ignorance is bliss’ – the old adage,

no maxim is as likely true;

The events’ horizons fade to black,

with no light to guide us through.