Endless Abyss

 

 

As I keep up, continue dreaming

I half expect to be distracted,

that I would forget under an accumulation

of sleep and sentiment — thoughts —

and be heretofore gracefully unreminded

by the the everywhere recurring motif

of the abyss

 

that every point in world time

is as deep as the sky

 

and that as thus there is no limit to otherness,

we are left naked out in the open.

 

When I dream I am intimate with everything,

however alien at the extremes,

as if it was possible to forget

that I cannot fully know even myself,

 

that I did find the abyss even within myself.

 

But if I do forget,

now that I have stood up,

I would sit down not knowing why.