It is not made of concrete, not
steel or stone, or
embedded in our consciousness;
indentured to our DNA.
It is not required to
understand its passage, know
its transience, see its
effects.
It is everywhere we look, it
is all we are, can be, can
know yet…is…
unknowable; nowhere…and
nothing we can ever be.
Time stretches and
we see a piece, a line, a
passing frame…we
cannot understand the completeness
the
massive amount of
nothing it is…as…
it devolves into fragments of memory riding
shotgun on
slow moving thoughts toward
our end, our own
shadows.
It is a line that began before
us…will stretch past…
now;
into a future
we cannot know…yet…
by its nature
its
essence, we feel
it slide by, feel it
grab, pull us
forward
toward
the place
where there is
no
end.