On Time

If past creates the future
does the future make the past?
I can't recall the future, why?
If everywhen is here at once is every me alive?

If I recall the future,
perhaps just one percent,
is that as much as the past I recall?
Is there a past and a future at all?
If memory fails, does everything fall?
Does everyone die?
Does the sky?

If my eyes inscribe on a copper plate
their flickering inputs, their changes in state,
does the plate move when I look,
and stop when I blink?
Does time move only when I think?

I remember a painting, could I do so if blind?
Are our senses, their record, creators of time?

If the present is the point when the past is filed
then why is it filed just then?
An event makes another and another in chain,
so when is the now?
Can someone explain?

A different me of tomorrow recalls
an hour from now with ease.
Is the me of the future who is dead now with God?
Am I now dead and living?
That would be rather odd.

If time ran backwards, how would we know?
Would things be the same?
Would differences show?
Would chaos just order?
Would shattered brains fix?
Would fragments of memory coalesce into vivid reality?

Chaos cannot be filed,
and time cannot be bent.
I can recall the future, a bit,
but not more than an uncertain pulsing percent.

The world is just a statue,
a snowflake made of glass.
A finite crystal everything,
the future and the past.

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.