an old writer and his words

Deep within the cosmic corethe celestial horologist tinkers,bending time into wormholesas the stars stare, muted.We are oblivious, strain to seeour place amid endless expansion.We accelerate blindly, unknown,unknowing where we are,where is could be at thismoment, at any moment,caught up in the temporal tide,a never yielding riverin which we inevitably drown.We swim against time’s tide,a futile…