“Time past and time future/What might have been and what has been/Point to one end, which is always present.” — T.S. Eliot “Burnt Norton” Four Quartets
Time makes us, time takes us. Here’s something i’m working on:
In time there is no time. In life there is only time. In a room with white walls time is ending. In a mirror time is repeating. On a train time is moving forward. On a street with dirt, glass and blood evidence leaves time. In time the soil will part and reveal a single grave. The Rio Grande will evaporate. The fog will lift and the Montezuma Bald Cypress will shrink in size. In time the icy mountains will drip, soil will erode from rock, the ledge will reveal it’s jagged smile.
In time our cities will expand, decompress and cease to exist. In time there will be no time. In time our bodies will feel the constant tug of gravity on our pant leg. In time our spongy marrow will dry up and turn to the earth for comfort. In time the sea will dry and turn the once fertile ground into a garden of grassy graves.
In the future, time will whisper from the past. Our silent cars will run out of gas. Our planes will land safely on the runway. We will stare blankly into the sun. In time we will have grown our hair out long and cut it. Our vanity will have gotten the best of us.
In time cultures will repel and collide. In short time your eyes will separate from the words on this page. In time he will murder again. In time there will be another war. In time we will elect another. In time she will win. In time we will float weightlessly in the darkness of space. In time we will fuck another, look into their eyes and see ourselves vulnerable.
In time paper will become a commodity. In time we will stare at the screen and recognize nothing. In time we will read these words with disgust. In time we will digest these staggered words of slang and shit out complete stanzas of perfect Shakespearean prose.
In time the socket will cease to conduct a current. We will become the body electric. The bulb will go out and be replaced. In time we will need to be plugged in. In time we will have lost our senses. We will have become numb to the joys of the wind. We will no longer know what it is like to feel.
In time we will long for the past, a loved one, or the comfort of another. In time we will dive off into the deep end and sink. In time we will bottle up our emotions and chunk them off into the sea. Later those bottles will wash up on shore. We will find them covered in the salt of the sea, dust them off, open them up and fucking FEEL. In a moment (perhaps in this one) time will stop.
You will realize that now is the time. In this moment we are here together. This time everything will be all right.