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Time is spliced into eternity.
It was not.
Now it is.
And we were born;
flung into space on a numinous
note.
Pure.
Thrilling.
Vibrating with sweet exuberance.
Gasping with joy I opened myself to
the singer
and
the song.
I sang.
We sang.
We shone.
Yet, we in our millions
could not
match the light.
Could not outsing the one who
made us with a word.
Separated by infinite space.
Intimately united.
We sung in glorious harmony.
Until.
Swollen with pride
the angel of light spiralled
in breathtaking freefall
to find a foothold in the heart of
man.
Discordant notes clashed, scratching
at the firmament as
the darkness gathered.
Thickened.
Obscuring our vision.
Dulling our voice.
Destroying courage.
Damning joy.
Fiery wonder became dust.
‘How long?’ We croaked.
Cosmic winds whispered, ‘Patience.’
IT
IS
FINISHED.
Rips at our core.
We are almost extinguished.
Almost.
We can not bear to live.
We stagger in our orbits.
Only holding course because
the master singer demands
it of us.
We are blind.
Silenced.
Waiting.
Waiting for the return of the song.
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