Catching Nothing

There’s something crucial missing
From all the calculations
And fine considerations
Of the nature of the beast

That’s change, called time. You haven’t
Got your heads around it, can’t
Arrange your words around it,
Can’t answer crucial questions

As to whether change happens
As was always going to
Happen, as it had to do,
Or whether it’s all open,

Or some impossible to
Imagine combination
Of the two. You don’t know change.
You can describe it, predict

Some of it, notice numbers
Appear to crystallize it,
Geometric, as if all
Is as was and will be now

At once, but it’s escaped you,
The nature of was to next,
Spinning your wheels around this,
The emptiness in the trap.