Time Knows Jack
When time looks around,
ancient yet so new is the thrust of the caveman's spear,
the flood of his primal wail
echoing through the narrow memory of mind.
The we who walk with false pride of modern man,
losing daily the value of remembrances,
blinded by present and future as something more than the past.
We who might never again appreciate yesterday's language
on the rocks,
walls,
parchment paper,
video screens,
and holograms of now.
For progress sometimes chooses to forget
we are but cavemen-upgrades,
buried deep inside our own vanity.
Time is always looking around
in its perpetual arcanum
as to how to better the present,
light’s potential,
dark’s mystery,
avoiding the countdown,
or not,
to the next
surprise-reveal.
How fickle this idea of time.
Both that night and day cycle, allowing for time to sleep, rest our weary bodies and the annual cycle of the seasons preclude a need for urgency among those fearful of what the night or the winter might bring. Now lost to us except when the power goes out.
But in universal time since the Big Bang, human evolution that you describe is minuscule when compared to light years.
I think you are referring to our penchant for the daily news of how things are going and how we do not pay attention to the course of history and the surprises, like COVIT-19, that await us beyond the bend of our perception. And our corporate penchant for quarterly or annual profits over long-term consequences of corporate behavior.
Ron