Time

Four dimensions, yet three in one, 
Location, space and time,
X Y location, space around, and in time, 
We don’t consider an X as without a Y really. 
So quantum mechanics stand to floor, 
The claim of the atom’s indivisibility, 
Because there’s always the atom’s nucleus to consider, 
For qualifying it to be the smallest thing we know on earth. 

What’s time’s beginning is made of?
Can be minuscule, 
That subtle ignition of structure, 
Which formed life’s foundations, 
Set joy and inclination, 
That lit truth’s mandate to do the right. 

I was in hell when I was young, 
But time was a friend, 
Let me speak even when I couldn’t form;
Credibility is on time’s side by time’s identity,
As time’s the only form that can claim credibility, 
Without having acted or done, functioned, 
Only having been, only having presumed
Because credibility is the essence of that configuration:
That’s why you need to be a friend of time, 
Because time’s credible without you, 
And time will give you life, 
Time will not demand respect. 

I have not changed my view of time,  
With ages, triumphs and tragedies, 
But time has changed its face to me: 
More friendly, more gracious, 
More amorous. 

But I needed people on my side more, 
More trust surrounding my disability,
Sociology was not once nice to me, 
When time was on my doorstep. 

However, I could say it was my fault, 
More determination would’ve sufficed, 
More belief in two of us, not individuality, 
And more trust in asking emotionally, 
About anything, the physical. 

Time is truly physical, when it’s analysed, 
Because physicists inquire into it resolutely, 
And so I will always have that friend, 
Which I made as a child of recondite contortion.

Copyright © Dominique Webb | Year Posted 2016

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