On the Other Hand of Time

On the other hand
of time, eternity
waits, patient
palms down.

Noot as night sky spreads
over the world, fingers stretched
to the horizon, encompassing
the globe.

Does Noot hold the world together? Imagine
toes stretched to horizon, hands flat on the far
disc. Earth reversed black to sky as curved
dome, a desert petal inverted. Splayed hand
to heel, every night her water bursts to
birth the sun of this dry land.

From the cave of Noot's womb
the word appears ready for syntax.
Beneath us the world spins
dizzy from constant returns.
Rivers of words pour from Noot’s breast,
translate into deities. Stars arise,Light
as she
as she wheels necessity round.

Penn Kemp