Ignoramus Protocol [poem]
We think we know so very much
but truly we know next to nothing.
For every new discovery made
will at some later [higher] stage
be overturned or altered by another.
The smallest particle in this wondrous world
is only that which so far has been seen;
(microscopic limitations standing in-between).
There must be even smaller ones to know
within this effervescent sparkle show.
Perhaps the universe in which we dwell
is oh-so-delicately held within a tiny droplet
of some alien rain which dribbles in another
huger universe which dangles in a particle
in yet another even vaster world
and on and on and on the cadence swirls…
Now think of it the other way…
Thus, in a quark within an atom in a microbe
in a particle of dirt stuck to a flea upon a dog
outside your house there is a vast array
of smaller worlds within yet other worlds
and maybe even worlds beyond those too:
A hyper-cosmic reproducted Russian Doll
with each one thinking it’s the only one;
enveloped in an ignoramus protocol.
I bow before the magic of the interface I see;
this hologrammic white-lie surface world
where light and darkness emanating from beyond
have been for longsome battling for supremacy
(though all the spoilers clearly demonstrate just how
the ending [next beginning] here will culminate).
For only when we climb upon the back
of each new learned digested fact
can we then see the next and then
the next one after that. For it is only
in this way we grow; and thus we must
not think that what we nowly know
is wholly or completely where it’s at.
Everything we witness with
our eyes is kind of bluffing.
We think we know so much
but truly
We.
Know.
Nothing!
.
.
© Alan Morrison, 2014
The Naked Troubadour 