| Because of things remembered, nothing changes
|
| We simply follow
|
| Rhythms that are distant echoes
|
| Ancestors turning in their sleep
|
| Silhouetted on the future, playful figures that cut
|
| Across the winking eye of God’s projector
|
| A partial eclipse of the original light that
|
| Emanates in all directions
|
| So that darkness isn’t pierced but rather
|
| Forced to retreat
|
| Pushed out by its own internal explosion
|
| The screen of God’s movie is time expanding
|
| And every atom is a solid globular mirror in which
|
| His grotesque anamorphic grin splits the darkness
|
| Everywhere our world’s expanding
|
| Journeys through the soul
|
| Past all thought and understanding
|
| Science or control
|
| Looking into the future
|
| Is looking at the past
|
| In whichever direction you happened to face
|
| You were forward and I was slipping back
|
| In the time it takes for the light of the -stars-
|
| To stir-the retina-rods and cones
|
| History’s in the beholder’s eye
|
| A fait accompli dans une autre endroit
|
| The further away we are, the farther back we see
|
| Unless we could gaze, instantly across the sound
|
| Where, moored like ships, planets anchored
|
| Swing and sway-golden barges
|
| Laden down with mist and frozen crystals
|
| Dancing away
|
| Everywhere our world’s expanding
|
| Journeys through the soul
|
| Past all thought and understanding
|
| Science or control |