On the Offing

here we stand,  here we stand. 
It is from this - now  near - mortal passing place;
Where the truth of time and the depth of space,
Are revealed in a slow, circular, spiral sequence.
And where those who wrestle here, are glimpses:
Images thrown on a screen and never fully known.
That  I can look back, yet, in unison, look forward still
At the wondrous worlds that were, are, and will be.  

Time has such depth here.
Each second, sluggardly thump’s  to  a soft, slow beat.
Each ‘tick’ is risen high; heaved up into riven lofty peaks,
each ‘tock’ is driven low in into deep sloughing  troughs;
And  how these restless, eternal mountains   so smash
And with a crash thus reveal a titan’s bellow at the sky:
A  fierce witness  in reflection against  a blistering sun,
That glimmers from  the rolling seething  whetstones.

Oh we are but mere mortals!
Mere back-jets  of droplets  upon a formed puddle.
Yet, we leave behind so many, many, many, songs.
So on the offing,  between these  rough skirted worlds
I walk along the white giant’s thigh in quaking strides.
 To gaze beyond myself and so  to  clasp natures grasp
To smile  at those as good as me raise up a heavy   glass  
And with glad hearts  and with  vigour  being  to  cheer
Oh how happy, how happy,  are we!

© Adh 2014 redrafted  2016