Time, the Wild Part of Eternity
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
A platinum machine to measure out
A mystery, a gold device to frame
God’s epiphenomenon sensed, sure, out
In space, a cage which makes its goal to tame
A quandary with moments and with hours,
An instrument of precious gems, of weights,
Precision, and of wheels, it has the power
To balance time. It opens up the gates
Astronomers have always known could let
Divinities come through, sharp rigor’s doors
Of knowledge, facts invisible but set
By physics, keeping universal scores.
(What makes millennia and minutes? How
Can diamond eons be required to bow?)