If all time is eternally present All time is unredeemable -- T. S. Eliot, Burnt NortonThey fool you by their endless repetition, Monotonous in its variety. You think that they will always be the same (Always different) forever. I came, so young, to play by this blue sea, The sky was blue, the sun a brilliant friend, The beach a radiant, golden paradise. And time was not. And now my friend is taking the gold with him, Departing for mysterious otherwheres, Discarding, unwanted, the grey corpse of the day As he bids me farewell. The waves remain, like ticks of some huge clock. You notice and exclaim, “How late it is!” You rush and hope that haste can set things right, Then all at once you stop. Now but few ticks are left before that stopping Where once there seemed an endless treasure hoard, Too great to count. I count them now, and still I waste them. God beyond time, You hold my past like my future. I have not redeemed the present. You must redeem the past. You must redeem me.