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04/05/10 - (1)
Timeless Time
In some vaguely familiar, situational way, With me sitting alone, on this midcity restaurant's patio, This eighty-degree early-April evening in St. Louis Is seemingly dissimilar, yet paradoxically identical, To that freezing March night I spent barbecuing, outdoors, On that far-northern-Wisconsin porch, not three weeks ago, Different and still congruent, coincident,
Not only in spirit but in its invocation of infinite tranquillity That descends in moments of total letting-go, Transports us to the shores of creativity's celestial cortex And dreaming's ocean, floated with fluid metaphors, Where we begin the euphoric explorations of our imaginations — Time's timeless bodies of measureless prescience, Ecstasy's stressless destinations.
Whether tonight is tonight or three weeks in the past or both Is less than inconsequential on the vast map Civilization charts and graphs, to predict and explain its future. For me, time is neither more nor less than transitory. It lacks cores, doors, corridors, borders, forwarding addresses, When forgetting has nothing left to remember but forgetting And remembering has nothing left to forget but remembering.
04/05/10 - (1)
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