There is no anxious heart that drives the fires
Beyond a past which no one comprehends-
Long scattering the dust of cosmic spires
To fragile art no conscious power defends.
This is a promise no one ever made-
The grandest burst of all that there can be-
Of elements in some divine parade
And all imagination, come and see.
But this most precious past of all- was ours-
The cradle of a universal cause
Beyond all understanding and all powers-
Yet even time found pre-existent laws.
No measure cried at inspiration’s birth,
No sound before ability to hear-
Just promise we would one day look from Earth-
And put it all in one sweet human tear.
John H. Bidwell