On Going

There's real alchemy
in this world--it's just
so ordinary
and so essential
we don't notice it.

The oxymoron,
continuous change,
comes closest to it.
No moment is not
another moment.

That's the alchemy
we try to call time,
although we have no
idea what time is
beyond metaphor.

We approximate
it in the limit
by mincing our steps
infinitely many,
infinitely small,

but can't slice it thin
enough to stop it,
catch it, see it still.
It is the Going
that is eternal.