Cavalcanti in age of space- time

Conway talks about magickal landscape, of buzzing faeries, flitting round flowers, crazily busy, like bees, and being open to the possibility, of them, being a kind of higher Reality, than the room we’re in

but time too, why does time have to be a bible and a clock, facing me?

And then if you’re open to time…

Why does it have to be just here, amid ruins of society, covered in snow, tho it be sunny, footprints without a trace?

And opening time, your key, opening up, and me peering thru:

And weren’t we already, a glacier, forgotten, but going on

Forever, remembered now, and holding on?

And then I’m not captive to an ice-chilled life,

In finding your key, locked within those eyes; compassion, you goddess streaming thru time in those eyes that reach into my spirit, open me up to possibility,

And hearth of home, and love,

And bury me in white highlight of light, within the cave of night, spirit above and below this time,

Tho we be mortal souls, with heart and blood,

Spread all over town,

Our lives be playing time, you highlight of my life, you central space-time, like a red palace in a dark forest, like a beautiful woman I know nothing about, Except her divinity, but seek her out: finding time a game of love.