At Some Point

At some point, bored with eternity,
we divided the timeless into seven days.
They were too long, so we invented hours.
They were too long too, so we invented minutes.
The minutes became seconds, ticking, ticking,
so we turned the ticking in our heads into clocks.
But we were important, so we made bigger circles.
We looked at the moon and invented months.
We noticed the way the sun paced back and forth
across the horizon like a restless golden fat-man,
so we invented the year.
We called our invention 'time,'
piling seasons into rolling heaps
of 26,000 rotations.
Doesn't that make your mind feel huge?
We imagined Maha-Yugas, Manvantaras,
and trillion-yeared Days of Vishnu,
which were all just sparkles, of course,
in the sleepless gaze of Mother Divine.
Finally we invented a single giant unit
that would end with a significant bang,
a war between good and evil,
though we never figured out
what 'good' and 'evil' actually mean.
And after the bang, nothing
but the inconceivable boredom
of heaven.... O Mother,
deliver us from eternal tedium,
the entropy of perfect peace.
Pray for us now and at the hour, etc...
Recycle us, again and again,
so that we may be useful,
so that we may become
organic fertilizer.
Again and again, recycle us, Mother,
so that we may be food
for mushrooms.