Mistress of Futures

There are so many mysteries in life, so many constant minor miracles that hold all of life aloft, so very much that none of us comprehend and never can, as we go about acquiring that which is our meager portfolio of personal knowledge. Our finite essence deems that we are ignorant to the majority of life’s substructure and nuance — yet it all is woven into the fabric of existence, and without which there is no “is”.

We live this mad chaotic journey of life, most of the time at the peril of imminent personal annihilation, save for many upon many manifestations of good fortune, of pure luck — perhaps by a grander cosmic intuition. Yet we live with confidence, as we must, that all these myriad possibilities that surround us, will fall in our favor — and they do, until they don’t. And only fate determines when that card flips.

We all go to our ultimate conclusion, grasping what pitiful little bit of knowledge and understanding we have eked together during our flash of an existence. Yet all that is, was, and will be in all of time and space — happens, has happened, and will happen, so far removed from our awareness and comprehension, as to amount to nothing of consequence to our reality. Yet the reality of our existence, breath to breath, is totally dependent on these consequences playing out in our favor.

We are a dust molecule in this raging cosmic storm. We are nothing but insignificant — while we go along filled with the belief of our worth, and we feel its magnitude in the reality of the awareness that we touch and manifest, which in truth is immeasurably little in the grand scope. But within us, to our perception, it is everything — and rightly so, for it is all we have at our disposal.

This incredible, almost infinite dichotomy, has always held immense fascination for me. I have always wished, even if but for a moment, I could sync with an infinite mind — though I fear the impact of the overload on my psyche, would render me wholly insane. However, the fascination has persisted my entire life, and will I’m certain, until it can’t. This poem is my feeble endeavor to express some insight to this poetically.

 

 
Porrima
goddess of time
mistress of futures
lift me into the realm
of unfinished dreams

strip me of fear
of longing
of inhibition

render me transparent
weightless
unburdened of care

an untethered being
of pure moment

a vessel of time and space
ever-expanding consciousness
aware of all

not as separate
but as the is
the was
the to become

let me embrace
the strand continuum
time’s infanance
unfurled to the future

drawing it forward
reeling it back
in simultaneous linearity
uninterrupted
to touch what is not known

let me glimpse
what cannot be
but is forever

an epiphanal glance
at the beginning
of the endless
the infinite now

at the mystery of fate

the why
within the why

goddess
grant me but a waft
of this miracle

grant me time

time enough

*
rob kistner © 2022

Poetry at: dVerse

 

~ and now for your listening and dancing pleasure ~




33 thoughts on “Mistress of Futures”

  1. Absolutely glorious Rob!! I love how you have spoken to the goddess of time and made us see the ebb and flow of what time is and is not. The now and the forever! The final lines for time enough is powerful! Beautiful!! What an amazing start to 2021!

  2. Happy New Year, Rob !!!
    Nice read for me. The Goddess of Time is worth knowing. Especially if she give free dreams. I don’t know which is worse, your “realm of unfinished dreams” or those recurring dreams that I was having for so many years. They stopped about the time I retired, 19 years ago.
    The goddess of time give us dreams that are free in the time world as they coincide with sleep time. But watch the day dreaming, those waste time.

    1. Happy New Year Jim! I admit to daydreaming, especially in the 8 years since I fully retired. I have insomnia so my night dreaming at times is nightmarish — though often fertile for poetic imagery. My best writing is 11:00 PM through 3:00 AM.

  3. Rob, I think that yearning to plug into whatever it is is what drives us onward. I imagine it as very bright and very warm. We will connect with it one day … to begin again.

    1. I felt the need to take it deeper this time Hank. This seeking has been an underlying drive, as well as a profound frustration in my life. Perhaps we will reach a place of knowing someday, or perhaps knowing is irrelevant – as the destination is as simple as the assimilation itself?

  4. There are so many undercurrents in the plea, flowing as the words flow, and they flow so well…the tone just right, but the undercurrents…will she….what has she up her sleeves, brings tension to your verse….I started with ‘We are stardust’ in my mind but moved in my mind to a French singer called Arno, who has a couple of songs that go very well with this piece..

    1. Thank you for the kind words. It is a glimpse at the undercurrents of it all that I long for Ain. For me, the goddess in this piece is just a symbol of the mystery. I feel it all to be so massive, so infinite, that there is no way for us to pierce the mystery, even just a little. No more than a cell in our body can ever hope to know itself in relation to its host. I find that very very frustrating — for if it is true, and I fear that it is, then our “individual” lives are meaningless in the measure of the infinite continuum. So why do we all, to some degree, seek to feel as though we matter. Just look at the complicated and convoluted religions that humans have fabricated since awareness opened the soar of the intellect. It seems we are simply swept up in the rager of all ragers, called life, and will be — until we are swept away. It feels the madness of the human plight has oozed its way to the surface in these times more than it ever has before — and its just “tough shit, that’s just the way it is.” Perhaps it is my frail ego that finds that reality, so very fucking hard to come to peace with. And all my life, I’ve never found religion to be the balm to sooth my troubled self. The closest I ever come to a crack in the door of true awareness is in music. In those brief moments, I feel in sync, at peace, and perhaps gain a vague awareness of the sensation of the infinite. Woah Rob, ground your anchor. I do ramble.

      By the way, thank you for adding to my frustration. I think I love Arno, the way I adore Tom Waits — but damnit, I don’t speak French, so I could only find a few of his songs in english — but I especially loved the mood and temperament of “Solo Gigilo”. Damn, he reminds me in his mannerisms and expressions of my long time keyboardist, now deceased. But seriously, thank you my friend, for turning me on to Arno. It is now a minor mission of mine to find more of his work in English.

    1. Thank you Punam, but I fear out time may have run out. We are ruining our home planet, now disease riddled, while the axis of evil sits side by side observing the opening of the Olympic Games. There resides a shadow of the ‘36 Olympic Games. I so hope I am very wrong.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *