Life, Writing


The world falls away. The stars and the moon expand to fill the space that was once taken up by the space of our being. We float. We float and see the galaxies as they shift and meld with the colorfulness of blues and purples against the inky blackness.

They are infinite.

They are infinite and oblivious to our thought and ideas of how it came to be. We have existed; we have passed away to a more ethereal being, yet the universe doesn’t care to wonder in return. Time has no meaning; it passes in a second. An age is only a minute to those who live forever.

We can’t quite grasp it, the finality and infinite and yet we still go on as if it can be succeeded by the mere mortal minds.

We are only one.


One thought on “Infinite.

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