The Biggest Mystery

This was a really old poem I did, I just thought I'd put it up here for fun.

Space is a twin sister

to a certain mister

who proudly bears the name Time.

They were exactly alike

from when Time was a tyke

to when Space grew endlessly vast.

But can I say,

just if I may,

there is one difference, one little sign.

For plus holds the future,

the number is now,

 but this sign is the key to the past.

 

Can one though think

of a fraternal link

of something so solid as fact,

to something so elusive,

overused, yet exclusive,

but they do say that opposites attract.

perhaps they are lovers

so absorbed in each other

moving not in a Mobius, and not in a line,

but standing side by side,

facing the tide,

linked by a multiplication sign?

 

Or maybe, just maybe, and this is a thought,

that discover this mystery, humans ought not,

or maybe we will, but when we are ready,

for how can we know, when the only thing steady,

is pain?