a place not visited

we fly faster than time into the nearer west
our thoughts run faster also alas our nerves
what happens to us there we hope serves
as a means of building a stronger nest
and meeting in our way the harder test
yet from our minds the lightbeam curves
around the image suddenly it swerves
and seems to illumine a place of rest
at such times when we wish to organise
our thoughts into some coherent shape
nothing seems to fall right into place
and when we come in turn to criticise
our own attempts we find there's no escape
we judge ourselves the losers of the race