Denizens of the Past

posted in: Fugues | 0

My dolls were personalities in their own right. There were two handmade beatnik dolls, male and female, with berets, shades, chubby bodies and spindly limbs; a little German baby doll named Beanie; Taro on his belly, with lifelike eyes and hair; Barbie and Midge (poor things, they never got a wardrobe or a Ken) and assorted animals.

I played rough with them and there are no survivors, but once upon a time, around my tenth year, I was very concerned about their education.

The half-finished basement of our rental house became their school room, with volumes of our Funk & Wagnall’s encyclopedia serving as their desks. This turned out to be a boring project that lasted only an afternoon but the whole episode is important to me because it raised the question in regard to the length of their classroom time, “How long is a baby doll’s day?”

Even at ten years of age I somehow understood that a small creature must operate in a different scale of time than I did.

I am not a scientist but I do entertain a mild curiosity about time. More specifically right now, because, reading about ancient global knowledge about the precessional cycle of 26,000 years, and the seven pole stars highlighted in that cycle every 3,714 years, I finally asked myself the question, “Who needs to know all this?” Why did the ancients track such vast cycles of time? Certainly the ancient Kemetians did not need to study such incredible astronomical phenomena for so long to predict the flooding of the Nile!

“There were giants in the earth in those days…” Genesis 6:4

What do we, struggling through the nadir of this current world age – believing we are the apex of human development – really know?

Don’t blame me; I’m just a poet.

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