Poem XII

If the past should sleight our senses  
And prevail within the apparent now  
Could we tear down restrictive fences?  
At long last satisfy our silent vow?  
 
Can you feel it? Feel it in your mind  
The intricate weave of the regressive lines  
Spinning, unforming a life as they wind  
Departed present though each present pines  
 
Lines of antiquity dance into the distance  
Their stories played out as silk in life’s web  
Vast experience holding up this instance  
As the primordial mother laughs over Geb  
 
In shifting sands slithers the snake  
Once it is at hand, it is far too late  
It is a mirage mistaken for a lake  
It lures the thoughtless unto their fate  
 
Let go of the tail in sight of the hind  
It is time to lay this question to rest  
In not looking back, life begins to unwind  
Doom rides forth from left of the west  
 
The starless is bitter, the starless is cold  
The starless is ruthless in breaking the mold  
The starless is written far beyond even the old  
Never in the starless shall this story be told