Could I move through time the way I tread space
I would no more attempt to resee Caesar
Than stroll from Brooklyn out to Central Asia.
But within the tight neighborhood of my life
There are many things I would unknot and redo.
This then is the trap of traveling through time.
So a painter can revise, rethink, realign
The canvas as a total surface, so would we,
To attain a perfect life, analyze and reconsider,
Readjust each small component,
Remove a second here, a minute there,
Devise new particles of time and consequence,
Cement them tight into place.
We would become purists and at end,
Relate all to all.
It might be we could be satisfied by just one perfect moment.
All else wiped away, that moment erect in eternity .
A crystal dewdrop poised upon a green blade of summer grass
Glistening in the momentary glance of a summer sun.