No one opened the silent door reflecting sunshine's unclaimed quanta
it was motionlessly in motion
racing against 1960 and a television screen of real images forever repeating
the eternal recurrence of the past
those world and dimensions more inaccessible than the future to the living
who knew if you were gone nothing would remain except their own memories
unreliable as they are. Forests disappear and new roads appear like spring flowers in mountain meadows
exhaust reaches the high arctic yet new ships arrive too
in time for the midnight sun furthest north
the world is a mud puddle for clinging elephants on a ladder high, high up
they are ladder sitters with memories of the dead
boom boxes underground send earthquake like chat to warn other elephants
of time arriving for them too.
Alone we arrive and depart from the glorious stage
yet for our mothers and fathers we would have achieved all alone
out of space-time we would have appeared to recite our clever lines
plowed fields with bumper crops of lifeless chrome
set our world spinning wisdom onto the way to make everything more efficient
before the bio-season of our own resumes closed to read 'final act'
when we exited alone as if such ignominy in inability to make ourselves immortal
had to follow us into the uncertainty of a lifeless eternal quiet
without brainwaves to disturb the universe with thought
for we worried that our own creations would be imperfect
incapable of a life better than misshapen earthworms
eating such dirt as we might be fortunate enough to discover
on our way around whatever world was set before us
like ancient forests with glorious colored birds flying through arboreal vistas
rainbows of motion against a backdrop of blue sky and free space
deep ocean breaths of salt air so fresh
we would thank God if only we could
if we had that sense to sense God
that if he were present, or if he were gone
we would know if we were able
If you were gone the world would become a broken form
inflating like a balloon off into a time trap of entropy
arrogant in crushing every structure to quarks and less
into most humble membrane of zero dimensions
without intelligence we would wonder of the possibility of stars and day and night
of times when those people we would new would ever be once more
If you were gone and the time stood open, undefined
like broken poetry hinges holding tangerine stanzas together
with rainfall of reasons to be sad
that alone these ideas without you would have no meaning
meaning having gone.
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