Burnt Norton (Interlude)

Time present and time past

Are both, perhaps, present in time future

And time future contained in time past

If all time is eternally present

All time is unredeemable

What might have been is an abstraction

Remaining a perpetual possibility

Only in a world of speculation

What might have been and what has been

Point to one end

Which is always present

Footfalls echo in the memory

Down the passage which we did not take

Towards the door we never opened

Into the rose garden