There are so many mysteries in life, so many constant minor miracles that hold all of life aloft, so very much that none of us comprehend and never can, as we go about acquiring that which is our meager portfolio of personal knowledge. Our finite essence deems that we are ignorant to the majority of life’s substructure and nuance — yet it all is woven into the fabric of existence, and without which there is no “is”.
We live this mad chaotic journey of life, most of the time at the peril of imminent personal annihilation, save for many upon many manifestations of good fortune, of pure luck — perhaps by a grander cosmic intuition. Yet we live with confidence, as we must, that all these myriad possibilities that surround us, will fall in our favor — and they do, until they don’t. And only fate determines when that card flips.
We all go to our ultimate conclusion, grasping what pitiful little bit of knowledge and understanding we have eked together during our flash of an existence. Yet all that is, was, and will be in all of time and space — happens, has happened, and will happen, so far removed from our awareness and comprehension, as to amount to nothing of consequence to our reality. Yet the reality of our existence, breath to breath, is totally dependent on these consequences playing out in our favor.
We are a dust molecule in this raging cosmic storm. We are nothing but insignificant — while we go along filled with the belief of our worth, and we feel its magnitude in the reality of the awareness that we touch and manifest, which in truth is immeasurably little in the grand scope. But within us, to our perception, it is everything — and rightly so, for it is all we have at our disposal.
This incredible, almost infinite dichotomy, has always held immense fascination for me. I have always wished, even if but for a moment, I could sync with an infinite mind — though I fear the impact of the overload on my psyche, would render me wholly insane. However, the fascination has persisted my entire life, and will I’m certain, until it can’t. This poem is my feeble endeavor to express some insight to this poetically.
Porrima
goddess of time
mistress of futures
lift me into the realm
of unfinished dreams
strip me of fear
of longing
of inhibition
render me transparent
weightless
unburdened of care
an untethered being
of pure moment
a vessel of time and space
ever-expanding consciousness
aware of all
not as separate
but as the is
the was
the to become
let me embrace
the strand continuum
time’s infanance
unfurled to the future
drawing it forward
reeling it back
in simultaneous linearity
uninterrupted
to touch what is not known
let me glimpse
what cannot be
but is forever
an epiphanal glance
at the beginning
of the endless
the infinite now
at the mystery of fate
the why
within the why
goddess
grant me but a waft
of this miracle
grant me time
time enough
*
rob kistner © 2022
Poetry at: dVerse
~ and now for your listening and dancing pleasure ~
