Time angles itself across Space,
shedding days, weeks, months
and yet another year has reached its apogee,
poised for a midnight moment
between then and now, and then -
collapsing in upon itself and emerging
after the tiniest unit of duration
as the New Year Interplay of Time and Space.
The residents of the house are only
human: Being among them day and night
is like turning the pages of a novel already
read and taken to heart. Where is that
passage that made a crease in the sky
through which the delights of heaven
shone for even the unworthiest person
to grasp before the vision faded and the page turned?
Oh, that book is shut! We have lost
the key that once opened it to the light.
Now a double darkness encloses it,
and we must seek elsewhere for access
to the light. We must be patient for
some opening that heralds the source of light.
Meanwhile, on what floor are the sick people
lodged? I brought the panacea they requested.
Perhaps it is as my sister tells me,
I have companied too long with grief,
sharing his frugal fare with stubborn resolve.
Shall I then stride into a larger arena?
Shall I identify the wound common to all,
and seek the remedy in the field
of endeavor rather than sink into
visionary solitude, my usual haunt?
What kind of life have I been living? Is it
one of Justice? Do I at every moment
affirm Equality as principle and practice?
Do I strive to keep body and soul together
for a purpose that pulls me into Humanity?
King Lear realized too late he had squandered
his country's wealth, leaving none for
his subjects, poor naked wretches. WE HAVE THE TIME!