Surreal
I dreamed the strangest dream,
A surreal dream.
I dreamt that time had all but run it’s course.
With pitiless intent and bewildering pace,
Time closed in upon people and space.
In swirling mists of receding light,
People disappeared without trace.
No sound or protest could I hear,
Nor stars or galaxies see,
I stood and watched in dreadful fear,
As time and space closed in on me,
And all that was left was a small dim light,
Like a torch beam shinning,
Faintly, on a cold foggy night.
As the last few souls melted into darkness,
A few shadowy figures, still I could see,
Floating in the void of zero gravity.
And in the starkness of this reality,
I knew my family and me,
Were destined soon to disappear,
Without trace,
Without grace,
As though we were never here,
Had never been,
Never loved,
Never seen,
Never known anything,
No time past or present,
No future to await,
No line curved nor line straight,
No beginning,
No end,
No time in between.
No eternity,
Nothing before,
Nothing anymore!
And in my dream,
In terror struck,
I searched the labyrinths of my mind,
Racing against receding time,
Desperate to find the elusive key,
A bargain with God to make
That he would not us forsake
But bring back temporarily,
Fading time,
In space and harmony.
Then came strangely an answer,
Though not one I understood.
A price we must pay,
God seemed to say.
For every new tomorrow,
We must give one yesterday,
Till all our yesterdays are no more.
And when that day has come at last,
The chimes of time,
Will come to pass.
What choice was there to make?
This bargain I did quickly take.
Suddenly,
The closing darkness began to recede,
The past to the present returned,
The future to present,
Destined history to become.
Everything in its place,
Everything in its time,
Then came the dawn,
Thank God,
And the light of early morn.
We are!
We were!
And still shall be,
Temporarily!
Postscript:
Then tonight, a learned man,
On television said,
The sun is halfway through its life.
In five billion years,
The sun will be dead.
A thought cut me like a knife,
One new day,
For every yesterday!
One new year,
For every yesteryear,
I dreamed the strangest dream,
A surreal dream.
I dreamt that time had all but run it’s course.
With pitiless intent and bewildering pace,
Time closed in upon people and space.
In swirling mists of receding light,
People disappeared without trace.
No sound or protest could I hear,
Nor stars or galaxies see,
I stood and watched in dreadful fear,
As time and space closed in on me,
And all that was left was a small dim light,
Like a torch beam shinning,
Faintly, on a cold foggy night.
As the last few souls melted into darkness,
A few shadowy figures, still I could see,
Floating in the void of zero gravity.
And in the starkness of this reality,
I knew my family and me,
Were destined soon to disappear,
Without trace,
Without grace,
As though we were never here,
Had never been,
Never loved,
Never seen,
Never known anything,
No time past or present,
No future to await,
No line curved nor line straight,
No beginning,
No end,
No time in between.
No eternity,
Nothing before,
Nothing anymore!
And in my dream,
In terror struck,
I searched the labyrinths of my mind,
Racing against receding time,
Desperate to find the elusive key,
A bargain with God to make
That he would not us forsake
But bring back temporarily,
Fading time,
In space and harmony.
Then came strangely an answer,
Though not one I understood.
A price we must pay,
God seemed to say.
For every new tomorrow,
We must give one yesterday,
Till all our yesterdays are no more.
And when that day has come at last,
The chimes of time,
Will come to pass.
What choice was there to make?
This bargain I did quickly take.
Suddenly,
The closing darkness began to recede,
The past to the present returned,
The future to present,
Destined history to become.
Everything in its place,
Everything in its time,
Then came the dawn,
Thank God,
And the light of early morn.
We are!
We were!
And still shall be,
Temporarily!
Postscript:
Then tonight, a learned man,
On television said,
The sun is halfway through its life.
In five billion years,
The sun will be dead.
A thought cut me like a knife,
One new day,
For every yesterday!
One new year,
For every yesteryear,
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