Out Past the Old Tomorrows

Endlessness.

That line of horizon

stretching from each

end of visible time,

one leg in the past,

one leg in the future,

trapping me inside

its ageless beating heart.

Put forever in a cage

and it rusts the bars,

put forever under a

mountain and it

carves a canyon.

The end of infinity

is so intoxicatingly

nonexistent its absence

is in the air we breathe,

in all our corners and

closets and drawers,

an emptiness only

emptiness can fill,

a silence only silence

can understand.

Lurking in our music

and our math

and our poetry –

we are endless,

the end beating

somewhere so

deep inside of

us that, thankfully,

we will never, ever

be able to reach it.

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14 thoughts on “Out Past the Old Tomorrows

  1. Oh this is so powerful! I heard the echoes of the endless reverberating in the spaces between your words.
    And somewhere in my head I thought of another endless poem which would be written on a piece of paper looped back on itself, so that the poem just continues on and on as you read down the ring of paper in your hand…

Thoughts? I love those.

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