Mayan Calendar of Us
in the high mountains, in the white fog
between the many rocks arched into the high grey sky
i found the mayan calendar,
memory of our ancient modern time
Nineteen months in each every new year
18 times 20 plus 1 times 5
i search for your month but it doesn't make sense
i crave for your symbol but it seems to be nowhere
My hands cup the stone cold hub of a clock so old and a clock so new
My heart beats fast as my breath echo over planes ever last
I realise now that our time was forgotten in the quarter never added to the 365
We became the lost time in the wheel of the circles of the lives of the past
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