A Sensing Of Parallel Constructs Poem by Bullion Grey

Can I not, being human - find answers to such basic questions?
Why is it so hard to know what I think I should know?
Sensing parallel constructs, I reach and only exercise my reach.
In dreams they come as flashes and fade away, I wait will another day.
Is it to be as it is?
Has something been taken, for another time?
Born without a user’s manual, and few clues, it this it?
Before me stretches as a vast sky, which can be seen,
but never touched. I mourn lost thoughts as if they lived,
trying to recount their temporary lives’. Only in these efforts I am at a many direction cross roads with few sign posts saying
“this is the way”.
In movies they set it so the time in the film fits with answers at the “end”. Why is there not such like this?
Some outlined plot with time and measure that reveals the turning of the next corner or page?
These fundamental issues that come forth from a cloud of mystery, playing on our own selves’ each little intriguing element that then returns to that vast cloud of unknowingness.
It seems if we were divine beings we would know what we know we don’t know, we could see the unseen and make our own adjustments, predicting even the next minute. But we don’t.
We flux through, stabilizing for a moment or so, then hurl into that unknown. I cannot say is it to be sunshine or dark clouds, but I wish, dream of a way, so how, to try and regain that what I feel is not here, within our grasp.
Everyday I resign and then the next get inticed to start a new, for why? Is there something I am not seeing? Yes!
But what could it be?
Where can it be found?
Can I have my blessing now please; can I?