Utopos

Can it be true that for all of history
We have wandered away from something right and natural?
 
The planets move unceasingly,
And the ants carry bits of food through unseen dirt tunnels.
If I could stretch up or stoop down
And tell them of all our progress,
They would laugh confused, and ask:
“What is this progress?”
 
Oh sun that reappears each morning!
Oh terra firma flowing with all your systems of life!
If you are not the incarnation of Utopos,
Come to finally unite our pleasure with our happiness,
Then who is,
And where might I find him?