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A Contemplation of Time

- A Contemplation of Time -

In hours passed, in moments hastening unto their destined ends,
I think of all my loved ones, and I think also of my dear friends…
And wonder if they truly know the woman that is within my breast!
There are moments when I suspect only the gods know me best.
A blood red moon came and went, a hunter’s moon, Diana’s own…
Reminding me of when she walked as I do, clad in flesh and bone.
Was it but a single yesterday when first I took my virgin breath?
Nay, it was centuries beyond counting, ere I knew my first death!
How humbling to realize this, and to let it pass over my very soul,
Like the waves of the Aegean Sea, wherever they ebb and flow…
For a spirit is like water and air, and fire and earth, and all things.
All that makes up the living: be they commoners, queens or kings!

Do hours pass without our remarking upon the passage, in truth?
Time needs us not, for it existed before the first days of our Earth!
Mortals never think of this, for they fear their own insignificance,
But I fear nothing, knowing much, and having seen in deep trance.
Why fear that which is so eternal, that which was and is yet to be?
I embrace the infinite, as sometimes my heart embraces the sea…
Which, like time, flows and ebbs and comes full circle at the last.
As I see clearly the pattern and the weave, of the future and past!
The undying now calls to me, and screams for me to live like mad,
And live I do, madly, smiling with my innermost heart ever glad.
Oh hunter’s moon, see me here and know that I walk this world,
Singing, dancing, laughing sometimes in silk, or leather, or pearl!

The hours pass and I pass them in the fellowship of my choosing,
Not what time, fate, or destiny demands with its’ harsh bruising…
Which, I will not allow to touch me, for I am above all its’ scars.
I am: both darkness and light, both day and night, sun and stars…
All in harmony, never imbalanced by the furies that mock others!
I am as I was ever meant to be: a child of vastly ancient mothers.
Diana, behold me and see that I am not as weak as many children,
For I have within my heart the very perfumed fragrance of Eden!
Doth it not flow like fire in the veins of our great angelic kindred?
Fire and water, becoming as one: stuff of the living and the dead.
I need contemplate time not further, for I need not such musings!
To me it is a small thing, and not as mortals make it: confusing.
Written by Kou_Indigo (Kara L. Pythiana-Ashton)
Published
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