Venturing further into the future
Plunging headlong into unknown places
Hesitant or brave we face a joined path
The result is always the same
Burden by a future without choice
Condemned to face what is ahead
Into eras that make no sense
Time becomes a parody
A cruel imitation of itself
Similar but infinitely different
Until years lose their meaning
And dates are utterly senseless
Keeping time is maddening
A game for fools
Timekeeping provides an illusion of control
Making meaning out of arbitrary numbers
Replace the dates and the results are the same
“What year is it?”
To which a voice responds,
“Does it matter?”
Photo by Jakub Dziubak on Unsplash
Liminal Theology 