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Today, we are all Janus-headed, two thousand and twenty

Or so years after the great crucifixion.

Anno Domini, and with every single grain of sand

Falls the relentless accumulation of hammer blows,

Cuneiform splintering. Such is the past…

Turn your neck now to face the present.

Hear the great onrush of river passing.

Eyes ablaze, look into “BE-ING.”

Witness the brief shaft of illumination.

See the runes at Newgrange how slowly they bake.

Now turn your head to the future, what

Rough beast awakes from its sleep?

Forgo all prophecy, be rather like Heraclitus;

Each foot put forward never resting in the same place.