In the short distance
it takes,
light on a table mind.
Maybe, in Stone Henge
configuration,
something more going on,
in that setup.
A Babylonian sun dial,
you can feel the heat of day
from out to in;
instruments of design guided from
the universe.
And double AA's today
fat Ben ticking away too;
make quality time stay,
interpreting sense from it.
The barrier to time travel
on the back of a muse
filling in all the schematics;
of such things,
of such folly,
of being picked and
put in one, such place
of transitory ideas.
Being in the wrong place,
or right place wrong time
on whose thrill, really?
That it could and would
never change,
in really cohabiting in
the meaning of time.
The mosaic, flower beds of space
in this Age of Aquarius,
seem some ideas
still revolve around Pluto's
balance
of light and dark just for its hindsight.
Filling in the gap
between finding and relearning,
some piggyback
until unloaded.
Thoughts are not developed the same
into form, meaning, and grafting
from the energy of space,
on to an open willingness.
Things should move
and become in their own way
to the newness never spoken of twice.