In the Petri Dish of Time

I am writing this time
because it is dangerous

to leave these words
festering here.

I keep thinking:
how farsighted of us

to keep these wild sentiments
fermenting here

into some sort of nectar


----do we drink it? it is delirium
-------drunk, drunker delirium
--------even when the glass hasn't touched
---------our lips

how farsighted,

we assumed

that sentiments
and unsaid words

might do what people do
within time's petri dish:

change colours,
change shapes,

morph into something
vaguely familiar

spirited

and fierce.

in the beginning

we created our world,
and we saw it was beautiful.

in the kitchen

we danced on sundays.


we created our emotions;
we saw that they were beautiful.

together we took our rest.

when the cold blue chill of dawn enveloped us,
we looked at our creation.

we looked at the kittens:

we said,

those are not fighting claws;

no, they are not survivors.

we left our unsaid sentiments
alone

to see if they could evolve
into a winged specimen.

*****

Don't you know, it's dangerous to let sentiments ferment and maybe sprout magnificent plumes and tear off with cries of wonderment.

They might carry us away.