Steeped in the provisions of illusive time,
we accept reality and all its rhymes,
but time is no-one’s friend,
nothing that reality can commend,
as its state is far from our linear minds,
far from a single dimension.
And so we fashion life around its superficial erring,
days and nights and season’s turning,
to find we are captive to its measure;
but how it can elude us
in capturing its true condition,
its multi-planed rendition of being.
As observance serves to explain,
one moment of bliss so quickly fades
while pain in eternity’s hands
keeps time in slow excruciating lands,
and neither can warrant the variance,
as we endure a measure so elastic.
Does time exist or do we give it existence
through our own perception, our belief,
our expectations the limits of its nature,
when surely its nature is far more than we know,
as we see one perspective only,
and within eternity there has to be more?
What happens when time is missing,
is it literally cut from reality,
or is it our viewpoint of experience, moments lost
within the mind only,
yet the clock ticks away incessantly,
and we try to fathom its infidelity.
Experiments with time give surprising conclusions,
an hour of music heard in five minutes of the clock,
memory lost and time sped up,
and I still gaze at the stars and wonder
as I must conclude time is our perception,
and nothing more.
Reality is a conclusion of mind,
the physical is but an image we accept
and its limits a reflection of belief,
as time is but the product of expectation,
and if one removes it, them time is a toy
to be stretched, squeezed and applied.
We create reality, our thoughts govern creation,
and time is a concept that exists only within a scale
created to fit into a paradigm of measure,
never definitive as we assume,
but a malleable concept attuned to an eternal universe,
and we but fleeting glimpses, through wanting eyes.
Tony DeLorger © 2018