Time Always, and Again

Notes in sequence echo, as a drum is heard unseen.

We take steps. Our hearts pulse. A clock ticks.

A rhythm forms.

The nature of life is movement.

And all that moves, must do so in sequence.

One vibration after another.

A life born to give life

And fade to silence as the next note rings.

Rings with the same difference as the chime before it.

We are taking steps through time

and the rhythm begins as sluggishly

as the first turn of a wheel.

It may only gain momentum

when a cycle is completed.

Acceleration will amplify

with every end that began,

and the speed will only grow

beyond that which physical matter may hold.

That which moves at the speed of light,

must become light.

It will shed the skin of limitation,

and leave all weight behind.

For light, is lighter than any feather.

All stars that cast it into your eyes,

are a faraway past masquerading as the present.

We look on their beaming faces,

unable to truly know the current whereabouts.

We speculate, as a man feeling through the walls

of a lightless maze,

guided only by that which he cannot breach with with fingers.

Guided only by that which denies passage,

and tracing along limitations

to walk the empty airs of freedom

where movement can be allowed.

He knows not the color of the walls

, the patterns of the floors,

or what hangs above in the air.

He knows not of the end or the center,

or if anything waits for him in that inevitable destination.

All he knows, is to escape the stillness somehow.

To escape the place of nothing,

in search of something unknown.

And what compass may he follow through such a place as this,

as infinite directions overwhelm the senses,

and only one line of time may be walked?

And if that direction fails him,

time in retreat, is time lost and never found again.

He may rejoin the path he walked before,

only to have sacrificed time with naught to bear but regret.

And yet, he knows to go that way no more,

and when enough dead ends deny him,

and he remembers those walls he met and turned from...

The right path could be the last he chooses...