Meditations in Fast Times: 6. Down the garden path

                 6.

Down the garden path,
testing serenity with math,
and the music that rises
from the bushes surprises
even the studied guide.

Where have we been?
Where shall we go?
Shall we know what we’ve seen?
Might we encounter snow?
(Our thoughts, as we march along, glide.)

This journey is the set to which we dance,
even if the music is unheard;
we all make the same contract with chance,
might face an outcome absurd.

There seems nothing on which to anchor,
though the seasons return to redeem us, from loss
of perspective or frame, or exposure to dross;
time serves neither favor nor rancor—
results neither impress nor move,
nor bow to any conscience we might behove.

Time is a game played by children,
an ancient guidebook once said;
the author, sadly, is now dead,
but we can presume his advice
was meant to encourage and entice.

© 2014 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen