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pendula and stars

by Indigo Tempesta

Time is now. Time is fleeting...
do you feel it?
A coolness that speaks of damp depths glides past my side;
embraces me(with indifferent brevity);
tastes the air around me; and on, forward it ever rides.

Time is life; time is newness and seasons and remembrance. Immortality sits in each pearl of pastfuture, and is the moment now in my breath.

The matter of which we are made, the stardust of heaven, is the fourth dimension;
Time's evolution is the numinous by which we perservere.
And by its inevitable passage we are lifted up;
or else by time we fall.

The only death is stagnation; beyond that, all is change, the unstoppable unknowable clock. And
what it looks like? If time were seen perhaps then...
bent?
What is the shape of time? And beyond its awesome definitions, what frontier?

01/07/2002

Posted on 01/07/2002
Copyright © 2025 Indigo Tempesta

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