Tonight the quarter moon is a gleaming scythe
clearing the mind sky of all that is superfluous.
We steal along the horizon in our stealth shoes
leaving no evidence of our passing, not a ripple.
Should people of the future look back on this night,
our very presence here will seem inconceivable.
In a solar system tens of billions of years from now,
our light signature may momentarily flash in the sky.
Perhaps we will be like those nearly invisible meteors
which flame out in the air just above the ground.
It matters little that we may go unnoticed — nothing
with a name or form is other than a brief illusion.
In the darkened depths of the shoreless sea where
no one keeps time, tiny incandescent beings glide.
Somehow we are drifting with them too, grazing
on vague memories, our gaze fixed on eternity.
From deeper still, an enormous mouth is rising,
as if it could swallow the whole ocean in a gulp.
Our thoughts no longer dwell on what’s to come,
we swim in a silence within an ever larger silence.
We don’t know where we’re going, even as we’re
pulled inexorably towards that distant speck of light.
Original Photo by Julie Fletcher