By Steve Rensberry
Why does life go on for any, when one, just one, must go away?
When the smile, the touch, the words of another,
are snatched from the world of the living against all will
-- because this fragile, flesh-bound vessel we use,
has the permanence of sand.
Here but for a spot in time we are, then gone.
Friends, lovers, strangers and families.
Overlapping lives beyond all space and time.
Minds and hearts in infinite juxtaposition.
A baby's smile. A mother's tear.
A sea of dreams in a cosmos that defies understanding.
Seven billion lives and climbing
Yet not one, left as human, will avoid the inevitable.
Victimized, collectively, by that which gives them life.
One hundred billion perhaps, from all time.
Walking, talking, striving to manifest the impossible
Laughed at by the universe.
But what is time if not infinite,
and what is matter if not eternal?
Is it possible, given time, that the cycle can be reversed?
That the future might hold the impossible in the palm of its hand?
That the lives we've lost, our own flesh and blood,
will some day live again?
Imagine a world a million years hence.
Where the past and present can be bridged.
A quantum world. A multiverse of infinite possibility.
Where the human will finds its rightful place.
Where infinity equals immortality.
Where death is but a thought.
Imagine still
that we are already there.
But for the eyes
with which we see