In the short distance

it takes,

light on a table mind.

Maybe, in Stone Henge

configuration,

something more going on,

in that setup.

A Babylonian sun dial,

you can feel the heat of day

from out to in;

instruments of design guided from

the universe.

And double AA's today

fat Ben ticking away too;

make quality time stay,

interpreting sense from it.

The barrier to time travel

on the back of a muse

filling in all the schematics;

of such things,

of such folly,

of being picked and

put in one, such place

of transitory ideas.

Being in the wrong place,

or right place wrong time

on whose thrill, really?

That it could and would

never change,

in really cohabiting in

the meaning of time.

The mosaic, flower beds of space

in this Age of Aquarius,

seem some ideas

still revolve around Pluto's

balance

of light and dark just for its hindsight.

Filling in the gap

between finding and relearning,

some piggyback

until unloaded.

Thoughts are not developed the same

into form, meaning, and grafting

from the energy of space,

on to an open willingness.

Things should move

and become in their own way

to the newness never spoken of twice.