History does not repeat itself
Or give edited highlights
For those in the kitchen at the time
Making a cuppa during the ads.
It doesn’t go in circles either
Though it feels that way sometimes.
No. Time moves in careful spirals
Like bedsprings coiled and compressed.
We can look across to other curves,
See both past and future
Caught in the coils of time
At parallel points but not the same.
So deja vu and premonitions
Are echoes of ourselves
Vibrating across the spirals of time
Giving that queer tugging at the heart
That speaks of the mysteries of life
And offers only ourselves as answers.