Poem for the week: "Time Traveler"

Time Traveler

“There is no other place

to find yourself. Now is your only context,”

said the bearded man in the miracle portrait

with the lamb in his arm and a lion cloud

in the pale blue sky—reincarnation doesn’t matter,

nor does the hollow science that when the body

dies the self is no more; the only resolution

is the moment, forever the fertile womb

of the infinite universe.

He came from the future, the bearded man

in the miracle portrait, to open the strait gate to

a timeline of resolution; and for centuries the narrow

way of the living waters of destined purpose was

heeded; but the worm in the apple spoiled the

barrel, and the man from the future had

to come back again.

“There is no other place

to find yourself. Now is your only context,” he

repeated, and expounded upon the sacred mystery

of self-redemption, and the timeline of resolution

was re-affirmed upon the divine premise of accountable

effort; and when his portrait was completed, the bearded

man with the lamb in his arm returned to the future

and waits for the world to catch up to him.