Limit

© copyright S.D. Green 2003

It’s right there, before the horizon. Just past that ridge, where the world ends.

With whispering footsteps, gliding speed, perhaps I could reach it. Go past it, join with the forgetfulness, become part of the unsearchable vastness of boundless existence. Where I am alone, and nothing troubles me. Where quiet dreams begin, and longing is satisfied.

It stretches above me, below the birds and above my head. Could I will myself to join them, to break through the sky with effortless flight? It delves below me, before me, in the ocean depths, with glistening fish slipping through the water of endlessness.

It is the end, the limit. The infinite space between points.

But I know, I know, as fast as I run toward it, it will flee, and the real will be with me. Should I learn the secret to flight, the limit would rise until it encompassed the stars. I could dart through the water and it would sink deeper.

I cannot go where the world ends.