time passes, does it not,
trickling away in drops, from a leaking tap unnoticed
imperceptible, drops of our days and months that
tsunami into years

we might grow more cynical or wise
we might allow the animals to howl or to transform
or we might eliminate hierarchy and symbolism
and see plain and clear past the allegory
what is left of the experiment
(an unintended one, an unknowing participant even)
the residue, the remains of the years –
what chemical composition do we have?
What has transpired here? -
as clueless as we are of the first expansions
the time when the universes arrive in another cycle;
or perhaps we could see everything in the cocksureness of faith
and drag on, in suspension, leave in doubt or in certainty –
each but a conditioning, a myth,
the truth shrouded in symbol and plainness
O sweet loves,
Time wraps us in its mysterious archaic cyberspace
an inner space that draws a roar, a bark, a howl
and we have justifications, visionary words, systems
to put everything into perspective
like a Titian framed so elegantly in an esteemed museum