DIGITAL ART — “Folding Time” by: rob kistner © 2007
W e cannot hide
from the great orb
of unquestioning fate
that spins in the spaces
of destiny’s light and dark
we cannot avoid
the days of falter and fear
held in this approaching void
that moves unsteady
in the fog
of unquenchable doubt
this
your mind must conceal
in a spirit of forgiveness
and joy
for that which is pure
tested by time
and the wanting hands
of the waiting
who cower
yet smile
singing truth
through the hail and barrage
‘cross the bow mast
of freedom
they
who seek broad measure
and fair berth
as all that you dream and desire
seems slipping slowly away
like rain through a downspout
and nightmares plumb deep
the sea of black dreams
as the fragile sphere of possibility
is gripped in the freeze of time
compressed and cracked
this slag-shattered
glass of the future
moves frail and slowly
through the arc of the ages
who’ve waited and watched
at the waning of truth
‘neath the brittled moon
of deliberated ancients
this fractured orb
that revolves in the void
of the others not hearing
what we knew to be
the plaintive cries
of the lost
blind to the light of the dawning
that heralds the new word
of this time that’s upon us
of this critical time
I am the bud and the blossom
I am the late-falling leaf
I am the arc fulfilled
I am the time come
of the here
and the now
where we’re held
firm in the fire
of visions and longing
for what we were
and for all that we are to be
here in our heart
of this moment eternal
even as
we gaze forlornly
across pooled hatred
‘tween a diseased curtain’s fall
at a fractured mirror’s reflection
of a waking nightmare
a glaring hallucination
a pulsing passion play
of a polarized reality
dual worlds
close enough to touch
but too far apart to engage
through which truth
stumbles blind
beyond reach
or reason
or connection with either
we walk as wraiths
through fevered empty streets
moving in these worlds
captive to the bone-white lies of both
implicit in their toxic grins
of inflexible conformity
lethal tradition
revered in mindless trance
change
shackled to the stone of fear
with a grip rough as rope
change
bound at the shadowed edge
of dark and light
plague and cure
repression and justice
ignorance and knowledge
change
bruised
disillusioned
but possible
yet still seeking to flee
like a squandered teardrop
forever away from
our failing grasp
but hold fast
beckon the dawn
summon the morn
there is far to go
and much to learn
rising from this dark night
someone needs first
release the light
hold fast
perhaps torchbearers emerge
*
original publication: rob kistner © 02/18/21
revised publication © 04/07/23
Poetry at: dVerse
NOTE: This is the final edit of the complete work, written on my 74th birthday, that inspired both my “Dual Worlds” piece. and my “Hold Fast” piece.