There was a certain
And beautiful
Sort of audacity
In
The statement
That was casually made
At lunch that day.
Time,
Despite all of its
Physicality,
Despite its pervasive
Entropy,
Is
Nothing
By itself.
The first planck second
Lasted an eternity,
And each moment thereafter
And eternity into itself.
And here we are,
Plus or minus
Fourteen billion years later,
One eternity
After another,
That,
from a specific
And minute point,
Had only recently begun
To realize itself.
And after eternity,
compounded by eternity
has passed,
One summer day
Out in the desert,
Almost jokingly,
He asked
"Where are they?".
It was mere moments ago
That we had emerged
From the womb,
Learned to walk,
And speak,
And look to the sky,
And just as we now finally
Have found the ability
To reach our
Infantile limb
From the cradle
And into the
Void,
We wonder
Why
No one reaches back?
YOU ARE READING
Melancholia
Poetrypoetry takes us to so many places, and we take poetry to so many places. here are poems about places, and sometimes the people found in them.
