Modernity aspires
but is built
on shaky ground.
Our knowledge so finite,
much
built on superstition
and ignorance.
The infinite
beyond
ours to know.
Slowly,
so slowly our
knowledge grows,
building on itself
expanding faster
as time goes on.
How much
can we hope
to know
with knowledge
being infinite?
How much longer
can we follow
the word
of those
who lived
so long ago,
who knew
little more than
superstition?
Is there comfort
in not knowing?
Is ignorance truly bliss?
Can the human mind
as constituted
handle the truth,
or will it drive us
insane?
We are the product
of our little world,
designed just right
for the place.
It\'s been said
that we can
handle
the truth.
I wonder
if that\'s really so?