On the road to somewhere from the road that leads to nowhere, You find the hidden bridge that takes you to the razor's edge. You take one step, you take another, you walk a different walk, In the field of lost time's distance the path appears in view. A light, a shadow, the dazzling sun, the insects click and hiss, The last rose waits for frozen night and death from first frost's kiss. All is quiet on the carusel of the ever-turning world, Night and light, the line between the unfixed darkness edge, The ceaseless, shifting dark horizon, always only ever half, This sempiternal, everlasting line of bright partition. Inexorably turns this pleasant land from dark to light and back again, We are Adorned and held in thrall within time's lambent girdle. All time and no time, no time to find the time that never ends, Time to leave and close the door before time's door is closed. We walk the road to somewhere, many turning footsteps tread, Towards the inevitably closing door and the glittering razor's edge.