Some Days

The hourglass spins on gimbals, tapped into motion by Youniverse. The sand spills through the wasp-waisted opening, which doubles as a Stargate.

Then we wait for an event, a move, a collaboration of time & effort to morph into change. Time is like a cat: purring one moment, snarling to slash the next. We can neither account for it nor accommodate it, yet we must do both. And for a lifetime!

“Time can be a false, flawed notion,” gurus tell us uninformed folks just living through it. Us folks living with clocks in every room, deadlines in every doorway, ticking on our wrists, floating on our phones, glowing from walls, towers, signs, devices, always.

I just read The Time Keeper by Mitch Albom. It is quite the study of time & its [possible] inventor. It won’t take long to read it, if you catch it at your local library. Once time was invented & people caught onto it, Time launched into an egotistical, demanding tyrant, the imperious ruler of mirrors where, incredibly, it allows no pause to reflect upon it.

Time swallows everything you can throw at it – relationships, possessions, childhoods – without a belch or a bubble. Next to Love, it is the most spoken of, talked around, sung of topic.

When Time dissolves in the salt of our fears, we will be polished to the bone & ready to move forward free from its hungry grasp. We will drop all the numbers, turn up our faces & fly.

 

Tuesdays

There was a beginning & there will be an ending, but I always seem to be in the story’s middle. The part where the beginning is so far back it’s not even a dim memory. The part where the future disappears into a great cloud of unknowing.

The sages tell me I’m responsible for my consciousness in all three zones while the pundits tell me get to the point! (Is there a point of “know returns?”)

Meanwhile, all I am aware of is the dailiness of Now; whatever changes occurs in this moment, uninformed or wise. But change takes place so slowly until, suddenly, it does not. Change accelerates & decelerates of its own will. Change dissembles, seeming to be one thing & then – blink – another! Both theatre & dance, stillness & movement, fractal & whole. A Trinity of Time: past/present/future.

No wonder we take drugs which alter time. No wonder we believe in unbelief as belief can take so long to manifest. Unbelief is simpler somehow, if less fulfilling.

The future is contained in a kaleidoscope where each incremental change brings exchange in time-space. Or is it space-time? How will we ever know?

I do things for the simple sake of doing. We all do, no? we spend money not yet earned. We exact wishes rubbing on an imaginary magic lamp. We expect the Youniverse to respond to our heart when sometimes our hearts aren’t even on the same wavelength.

Each day of my life, my life disappears; small bites nibbled from the timespan. I seem to be caught in its alimentary tract, inanimate until digested. I make a smooth contact, like a receptor into a brain cell,  then into light-life I spring.

The Winter Home

Farewell daylight savings time

Long-lasted hours of darkness

Cloaked invisibly about me.

Goodbye the sweetly dreamed

Brought on by heavy covers pressing me into sleep,

With only my nose exposed to brightcold air.

 

I shall miss the sly-bold pride

Of rising hours before the world’s light

Far ahead of the Sleepers…

Now the days no longer round their way to bed

But perceive it as an interception to the light’s

Sharper edge, murmuring

“Stay awake!” “There’s more!” “Don’t go!”