Redoing

Time present and time past

Are both perhaps present in time future,

And time future contained in time past.

T.S. Eliot – Burnt Norton

I suppose a poet is eternally burdened by the "what ifs" and what "might bes" of this world.  When for lack of a chance word, history could be completely different, who wouldn’t want to contemplate changing what was so that what is could be more bearable?

The real questions then become a search for the truth.  Because truth is not just a sentence upon a page, or story passed down from generation to generation.  Truth is a kaleidoscope forever growing and changing depending on who is looking at it.

Altered by the light and constant turning upon the spit of generations, truth pivots like a gyroscope in the eye of a hurricane.  It is not just a mixture of metaphors, but a mingling of eternities whose beginning and end are caught up in the essence of infinity.

Were I to still the hand that hurt you so long ago, what else that I love and treasure might yet be changed?