we ramble in darkness,
we ramble with the past
we ramble with all the places long left last
we wander with time softly, lit on our side
walking slowly, but thoroughly
looking at our wrists.
and when release is needed
and when the problem becomes
we realise all is,
and was illusion
is time an illusion? if you wear one of those watches that is powered by wrist movement, then as you look at the time, you give it power, as to the question, its best to leave that to philosphers, and time will tell, just like william tell. Come away come away.
ReplyDeletebefore 1898 there was no notion of standardised time. each city and town ran on its own time. in villages entripising individuals would keep time for the whole community and people would visit them in order to stay 'on time'. Sir Stanford Fleming was working for railroad companies in Canada at the end of the 19th Century and it was he who proposed standard time zones. Without trains there would have been no need for standardised time, so when your train's running late, thank your lucky stars anyone even has a notion of being 'on time'.
i like how this poem remind me that identity and self is spread through time and place