Time

What is time?  From where does it come?
To where does it go? The concept whirls around me
like an eddy in my favorite trout stream.
 
            I see a particularly graceful swirl...
a  May fly on the water travels down the pool
to feed a waiting rainbow; but no, the time is wrong --
cross currents intercept its travel and plans
for happy meal forestalled, the hungry trout retreats.
 
            The swirl of time blends quickly
with another space. An image flashes up-- GOD!
Such a smile I have not seen since…when?
Where were we when we could both smile?
Her radiance tattooed indelibly, and
only time will tell just how well so.
 
            What is this time which so controls
our life, our fate...is predestination real?  Are
we constrained beyond our powers by some unyielding
force within our psyche but without our control
or comprehension?
 
            I don't believe it!
 
            I don't want to believe it!
 
            Today I traveled as I did the day before,
and before that.  My eyes were on the road and
for a floating instant, time stood still.
 
            My tunnel vision augured through a mountain
of uncertainty to slam against the reality of time
- stripped it of its pretence.
 
            I saw me clearly, my space
as crisp and well ordered as the needles on the pine
in my back yard- glowing in the sun light-
pinecones in full erection as if reaching for
an orgasm in the sky;

             but then, alas, I knew not where I was,
nor how fast I traveled through.
 
            Heisenberg be Damned!
 
            Be Damned... for being right.