Relativity

He stepped into the emotionless moonlight and breathed in deeply, the cold biting at him bit by bit. He stared up into the sky, deep into the dark abyss of space, and continued to fall into infinity without leaving the ground. He was so small against the backdrop, so insignificant, that his presence or absence made no difference. The universe did not care if he was or was not. In the scheme of things his time as this set of molecules was immeasurably small. In the fullness of time he did not even spark.

He felt his smallness, his meaninglessness in space and time, and smirked. As he was insignificant to the universe, it was insignificant to him. But in this relative timeline, he mattered. He mattered to himself, to his family, and to his friends. He mattered in this space and in this time. For that he was grateful, and he planned to make the most of it.

 

 

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Edge of darkness, edge of light

I stand on the edge of darkness

as morning comes to take the night

and watch as new wonders arise from the dreams

of all who dared be greater

amongst these frail days.

 

From this place I see what needs seeing,

the struggles and fates untwined

the open spaces between heart and mind

where imagination lives and dies,

this place of my making

for having chosen unwisely.

 

I see the wonder in a child's eye

and understanding in an old man's heart.

I feel the yearning ever bright

in the soul of a forgotten slight,

and more than that I see what is hidden

deep within those with the darkest fright.

I see their fears alive

thrown at others with all their might.

 

This new morn brings toil and trouble,

it brings magic and untold stories,

narratives dark and bright,

but more than that it brings hope

that on this new day we find our way,

that suffering, loneliness and fear

be held always at bay.

 

But all too soon the day will end,

as night reclaims what light illuminated,

and we sit in ardor unrequited

to think and ponder of our failed plight.

Are we better for having lived

another day

the tide moving in the same old way?

 

The moon rises, the sun sets,

the season recedes,

and in this moment I lament

that you do not know me

and I do not know myself,

for I am not who you think I am,

nor am I who I might.

I am what you make me

all despite.

 

In this I am dying

none to remember

that once I was here in all my splendor,

unseen, unheard, and unimagined,

but only as a trouble encumbered

should my history surrender.

My gifts lost to witness blinded,

awash in inequity,

drowned in sorrow and pain.

In the shade of the silence of friends

lest they too be spited.

 

But tomorrow is another day,

a dawn of new endeavor

upon which I set my hopes

of living life beyond these shadows,

in warmth and peace enchanted.

A new day with fear for being

what I have become, decanted.

 

The light swallows the darkness,

I slip into the shadows,

a finger ripples the water

and then there are none the wiser.

 

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