We often think about time
A something that comes and goes,
That medium we travel in, but
We know it does not come and go
Anywhere.
Time is as sea or wind or element
Without beginning or end,
Nobodaddy’s coo-coo clock
Which ticks as the swaying stars.
It is the angel of abstraction
That ends in imagination.
It is the force of gravity
That holds the living together,
As we soar high,
In our one and only flight
With wax wings
In the scorching sky.
Last Few Words: Tempus Fugit- "time flies" Virgil. Nobodday is Blake's character for Jehovah, an old white haired bearded bungler who is the false god of Milton and the Bible. (The true god is the imagination, the emanations of Los and Albion). The reference of wax wings is to Icarus, from the mythology that he stole his fathers wax wings and wanted to soar to heaven to find it's secrets. The sun melted the wings and he fell to his death in the sea (now called the sea of Icarus)
Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft
Comments
Nicely written Mark
Nicely written Mark
I especially like the paradox of the transitory against the backdrop of the temporal
In time we learn
in time we burn
Best Z ;)