Mystical Poem Written 3-28-23
Oh Time, cursed and rambling, Ancient and cryptic, Hungry to eat Your children, And put them behind You Within Your coiled and mighty hands, You grip each moment, Squeezing out the nectar, Bittersweet between sticky fingers, Fate and Necessity have doomed You, Poor Cronus, savage and mighty god, Out of the eater come forth the eaten, And You lay damned for Your efforts Oh Kinslayer, oh Hungry One, I look across Your wrinkled brow, You, father of the father, Who I cannot escape Shall we play the game again, Honored Elder? The dawn is nigh, The turn of the cosmic wheel, Creaking like Your very bones Shall the generations come forth, Full of hungry hopes, And leap from You once again, Only to be devoured? I am tired, oh Ancient One, And the light has become garish, Put me in your mouth, oh Primal King, And eat—me—up!
Art: Francisco Goya, “Saturn Devouring His Son”, (~1820-1823)