Ode To Time Poem by Tom Billsborough

Once absolute, now personal,
Time and belief.
Heretical, my eyes perceive
My colour and my shape for this leaf.
No boundaries exist
From the first catalyst,
That random word, the first breath
Of the songs that form
In my expanding universe,
Where Time has no life but no death.
What stars, what nebulae are given
To the best minds, the men of vision,
Replacing rituals, fake history
And our entropic memory
With heretical perceptions.