no mystery nor reason for the day
to start so simply since the bright alarm
brought us to wakefulness with simple charm
while this last warden had now news to say
but that there were some causes for delay
and none for haste but we are past all harm
of foolish words nor may the time disarm
our urgent thoughts we must be on our way
onward to where the final tolling bell
cannot be heard and then so far beyond
that on our senses we cannot depend
who will not know if any live to tell
the meaning and the substance of our bond
or who will care that any reach the end

a moment's vision just a little nudge
of seeing what the normal eye can't see
in moving time just so we might agree
on one fast rule but no you will not budge
from  that position nor will you begrudge
what we assume is given us for free
to stay or go just so each has to be
the honest broker and the silent judge
this course of pain is now so well begun
you take the measure and devise a trap
knowing that soon the true moment will come
since each desire has in us one swift run
a journey noted well upon the map
and valued now at a gigantic sum

the echo of the horror goes away
leaving behind this memory of shock
a break in time not noted by the clock
while passing cloud has covered up the ray
we are not certain yet this is full day
so we come here and place our hearts in dock
for your perusal so that you might mock
or press us hard or even probe and slay
the signal here is of a subtle sort
made for discernment by an elder eye
thus nor for wasting on our hasty youth
who are on this day in another court
beneath a vision of a different sky
but still must learn there is a single truth

i miss the master of the golden house
who has gone down to view the changing tide
or so i'm told perhaps to soothe my pride
for some new message now i must espouse
before the last new flame we have to douse
in the new dawn there is no place to hide
this anger at being taken for a ride
or knowledge that i'm smaller than a mouse
vision is lost the message all unsent
when signal flame no longer seems to  leap
above the hills nor on the mountain peak
can any see just where the last word went
now no one has a single hearth to keep
and in the clamour none would dare to speak

you wake and read the message on your phone
which tells you something that is bitter cold
at edge of summer now you are not old
just middle-aged not in the best of tone
a little silly too inclined to moan
about the minor things yet not the gold
measure of what can now be truly told
you see the words a crab now eats her bone
the tale's been written on a rotting page
yet can be read by any human eye
we can't escape the poison nor the taint
nothing avails there is no use to rage
each comfortable answer is a lie
and yet she set the signal down in paint

we miss the mark by blaming modern haste
for all the losses that the old declare
since time's the one thing that we cannot waste

why bother waiting when the one abased
will be revenged when none is left to care
we miss the mark by blaming modern taste

instead of noting that the old displaced
was most unkind and never was quite fair
since time's the one thing that we cannot waste

you ought to leave at once before the taste
of anger drives our guardians all spare
we miss  the mark by blaming modern taste

for those disasters that our kind have faced
the ***** magics came on unaware
since time's the one thing that we cannot waste

burning our feet showing our gems were paste
leaving behind only a haze in air
we miss the mark by blaming modern haste
since time's the one thing that we cannot waste

a meeting graven deep in the recall
so scents and colours you cannot repress
the place the time all seem to coalesce
the heat was summer but the season fall
and from this distance no detail is small
since paths were crossed and cannot now regress
back out of meaning life itself must bless
what we have been and forbid us to bawl
now roads will take us far but not so far
that voices cannot take us back in time
to where the light first taught us how to touch
our minds to plastic shapes that had no scar
before to hope was made a sort of crime
and any knowledge had become too much