in time’s world

light in the water

a world of time © bd

 

each moment is a thin slice of tomor­row
pried from the future’s reluc­tant grasp,
becom­ing first our dearly beloved now,
then cheat­ing on us in the arms of the past

the past is that com­mon land where our fel­lows,
who through such grace as they found in books
or read in dry bones tossed on the hot sands,
now shout hosan­nahs in praise of themselves

the future, lack­ing any real sense of pur­pose,
never quite becomes itself again, though
we hunger for its sweet taste of immi­nence,
shocked still by the thrill of its on-coming lights

the present is bound in those small spaces
on either side of sound where
dark and silence remind us
every man is Adam, every soul is king

 

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