They say it’s not possible to travel in time, but I know differently.
I have seen the past
…in the gnarled root of a tree, winding its way round ancient walls
like a snake devouring its prey;
… in the mournful eyes of an old man,
a man who can no longer watch the setting sun;
… in a boat that drifts quietly through the floating village,
as it’s done for countless years.
I have heard the past
… in the wind that echoes
through the walls of a vanished realm;
… in the words of the taxi driver
mourning the loss of his father, a man he barely remembers.
… in the gentle voice of the young monk
who speaks of ancient rituals.
I have felt the past
… in that which is conspicuously absent,
a generation vanished, in logic that defies all reason.
I have seen the future
… in the movement of the dancers,
free once more to bring the past alive.
… in the face of a child, too young to remember,
eyes glowing with the simple joy of life.
© Barb Mayer 2007