Men and The Goddess

It’s a dreary Monday here in the Middle Atlantic region, heavy with rain. I found a heavy poem from a series I had written on time (last Monday’s was the first in that series) and how it might operate extra-dimensionally rather than linearly. It is so easy for us in the west to think of time as a unidirectional vector: past as tail, present as shaft, future as arrow point shooting out in a single direction.  But what if time is more like a bubble, sometimes expanding, sometimes contracting; what if?

Echoes 3

Echoes need emptiness.
The reverberations of time
Bounce within the hollow bubble
Of now.

Write for the future.
They need your poetry
Out there for some distant when
To exist.

There is no now,
Only the echoes of yesterday
When the world was made new
For all.

Write for the past.
There is no then without these words
Remembering those who remember
For us.

©2014 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.