Time (1974, Townsville)

A soft passing melody,
ethereal, infinite, encompassing all,
a flowing medium with no beginning and no end,
intertwined with space; another dimension.

An era passes,
I feel a sad, sweet melancholy,
time has locked his gates behind us,
the future beckons us as the past fades to obscurity.

We must go forward,
we are carried headlong in the rushing stream;
a raging, rising, falling torrent,
with a profound temperament of its own.

Loneliness, for we are a part of life, yet alone.
Time talks to each as an individual,
trapped in his swirling mists,
masking the world and all others.

Feeling, emotion are heightened,
the universe unfolds before us,
no longer a mystery, inconceivable and beyond comprehension,
we are a oneness in ecstasy with life; time grows distant.

Discovery,
time is a vast ocean of which life be the shores,
barely touched upon, awed in silent reverence
for the majesty of the changing waves.

If we understand, then time is on our side.
Life, love, people are no longer complexities,
they are revealed in startling simplicity,
ever-changing yet defined kaleidoscopes of colour.

Sunrise, sunset, a timeless unison,
for them time does not exist.
Moonrise, moonshine, cycles of perpetual motion,
unchanged through countless aeons.

There is a hope,
that we may join with and share in the infinite,
dimensional boundaries fading, disappearing,
as we the slaves become the masters of our own destiny.

Crystal images become reality and then fade,
the set pattern of creation is indestructible,
the search for soul and insight is behind us,
where time reigns as master.