In answer to the lighhouse...

~ There are no definites...~

There are no definites, no absolutes,
Or rather, there are, but very few.
Mainly, there are a series of possibilities
Each with its own likelihood of being true.
The probability of likely truth varies,
As much for each individual as for each theory ever posited.

No-one has all the answers,
No one person knows everything for sure;
Anyone, anyone at all, that claims such omniscience
Should be first to be summarily dismissed
From your list of trusty consigliari.

We’re all seeking knowledge,
On a quest of curiosity;
From the day we’re pulled,
Mewling our indignation,
Into the cold, harsh light of here,
The original rude awakening;
Until the time we’re returned to darkness,
Softly slipping or sharply shoved,
Mostly unprepared for our final earthly transition.

And so it is, why we question,
Why we take elements of every day, and dissect,
Always rooting around for the root cause,
Forever attempting to satiate that innate urge for answers.
And given that life is apparently a journey,
And we its unwilling but, nevertheless, intrepid travellers,
Then what more natural questions to pose
Than those of our origin, and our final destination?
How can we ever expect to arrive at a place unknown?
And surely our present can never achieve full meaning
If we’ve no idea of the past on which it is built?