Chronometer

Time is more like a dream
the more and more
one thinks about it —
almost illusory, having
some kind of logic
that escapes one’s own reason,
hazier and hazier
the more one tries to focus
on what it might
actually be, and what
it might be not. The greatest
image is that of a
grand river, but Einstein
spoiled that overarching
vision, when he declared
we each have our
own specific flows.
He sat in a chair
and thought about
this mystery, time:
discovering that nothing
happens like we believe,
how strange the world
actually is when
pushed to its limits:
and this merely by following
logic that seemed to
escape all reason,
but if followed, led
into a dream where
in a strange, strange land,
everything was real.