Quincunx Traa dy-Liooar

Time is the only currency,
Even reproduction is just
One way to time's heaven,

Assuming eternity
Or endless continuation
Is the goal. And it seems

So, given the general
Thematics of most
Human religions

(And is there any other
Kind of faith than human?).
We call this heaven

Of indestructible,
Unspendable forever,
"Timeless," oxymoron,

Never fully realizing,
Whether in faith or
Philosophy (or poems),

That there was always
Time enough, and worlds
To savor it in. It goes,

Yes, and by going
Gets away from us,
But that's a trick

Life plays on us.
We are the going,
And the time we spend

Getting away from
Our own denouement,
Goes sideways, forever.

We trade, therefore,
Meantime, in worthless
Wooden nickels we call gold.