Mysterious Place Without Time
We live in a world marked by moments in time,
Hopeful that the Past and Future will rhyme
With the experiences of a vacillating Present.
This is the clock, which strikes us content.
Yet, our world is a mysterious place without time.
Tomorrow’s dreams seem to fall behind
The experiences, which create our Todays,
Slipping quietly into the role of our Yesterdays.
How can we find meaning in moments that never stay?
Rolling in like ocean waves, they race toward us always.
Just like a moonbeam, ’tis impossible to catch that last wave,
Which remains forever beyond our grasp, elusive our game to play.
Subtle mystery is the sum of who and what we are, not moments
In space separable as increments of time. Yet, life foments
Mysterious experiences rolling in like cosmic rays from dimensions
That move within, through, and beyond constrained imaginations.