Cadmus O'Hare's Hymn to Time |



Cadmus O'Hare's Hymn to Time

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None seize him but he consumes them,
Time; he drinks and returns the moon
And is the yard of speech through our labyrinthine brains,
Master of vein-swell, of flow of the hair,
dye maker of rose cheeked to pale;
Measured in movement and erosion of muscle,
The growth of muscle, of the root and ring---
Frost and first growth and bloom and absence;
Time: blind, sure-foot, the measure master of music,
The dogged witness of truth and evidence
And accomplice hound of our hunter conscious;
Time: holy, simple, perfect in amount,
Waster of species and regime.
By time the agate’s tiny cave,
The diamond and amethyst’s pressured peak,
By time the rove and return of the hoof,
The pendulum of shadows west to east
And the gentle fist of the rose and the rose when it unfolds,
Through time resistance grasps its fruit
And the ocean face has its serene and crash,
The silky plant digests the ant
And the evolution of seams of pants,
The clenched teeth and, relax.

Variation Two:

None seize him but he consumes them;
Time, who is the breath and flow and stop of it,
Of everything, the waster of species and regime
-- of yoke and wren and the youth of a man
And who alone suffers nothing;
Sudden, thief, and always the same,
The flowering alter of craft and weight and language;
Time, who is shown in the rope work and seem
And the promise of rain and the need;
Renewer of faith and laugh and long face
And the moth of our beloved’s frame,
balm of wound;
The litter of all things, barrenness of all things,
Master and relief and cage.