The Dance of Time
4-14-06

She walked inside, paused to hear the tune.
The orchestra played a waltz.
She had listened to that melody for many moons,
And no longer could hope her fears false.

The dancers were mortals, all living in time,
And could not hear all of the song.
They didn’t notice the pattern in the rhyme,
So the melody still carried on.

She was sure that she heard it, a fearful repeat,
Of life, death, hope and despair;
The cries of vict’ry, the grief of defeat,
To the past could exactly compare.

A few pitiful notes, all played over again,
Yet no one made note of history.
If they’d looked back, they’d have noticed it then,
Noticed they retold one story.

“Learn from the past, or you’ll have to repeat it,”
That is how the saying goes.
But ignorant ones think that they can defeat it,
So earth shudders from the same throes.

And still she was watching, daughter of the stars,
Maid spun from moonlight and water.
The immortal one wept for time-locked ones afar
Pitying man’s mortal daughter.

Spectators were watching from every side,
Many of whom she knew not;
But seeing past, present, and future, she sighed,
For they’d not get the rest that they sought.

She knew that the mortals, so foolish and wise,
Would never stop thinking they knew;
Even when they danced to their own demise,
Their eyes would be shut to the truth.

Arrogance was part of the doomed human race,
E’er since the dawn of time;
For Time himself had set his own face
Away from the dance where they died.

The nymph who watched, with tears flowing down,
Was seen by her father the Water.
Shaking his head, and despite his own frown,
He tried to console his daughter.

It didn’t make sense, the dance that they danced,
The endless waltz of time.
But inside of the dance, the mortals advanced,
And thought themselves better than rhyme.

And so, once again, fleeting peace of men,
The sun that for moments did shine,
Was eclipsed by the change of the music and then,
So continued the doomed dance of time.



                       I had to paraphrase that quote, "Those who do not learn from the past are condemned to repeat it," for the sake of rhyme and rhythm. It was a strange inspiration; I recalled a line from Gundam Wing: Endless Waltz (the Gundam Wing movie) where Mariemaia says, "History is much like an endless waltz. The three beats of war, peace and revolution continue on forever." Then I imagined a ballroom, with mortal dancers dancing to a song that never changes. And an immortal daughter of the elements fearing that the waltz the mortals danced to would never change.

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