God instead
I don’t know the
particulars
but I’m going to have to
leave
this world one day, the
only one
I ever remember knowing;
leave behind everyone
and everything I hold
dear
because the sea is (after
all) cardboard
and the moon is made of
paper.
I’m not talking about
death’s overtaking
but as a clear-eyed,
deep-breath resolution.
Because if I and Love are
eternally One,
my affections and their
objects (like myself)
are but pale,
irresolvable reflections.
And to reach beyond the
facade I must one day
unhand voluntarily their
brief, illusory
solace and choose God
instead.
O child of God, repeating
the mystic promises,
you hover constantly near
the edge of the abyss.
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