The Distance

In finite space
the curvature of forever
out of grasp
wraps into itself
and nourishes the transient present

that slides in
to the past
and glides
with an endless immediacy.

Is Now a marker,
or like a star,
energy traveling through time’s space?
Or illusion,
an elusive dream
tucked in the crease
of a shadow?

Do we journey
in time’s space, or
does it radiate through
us
to finally exist
as a layer
of the past
we just became?

I want to become
an illusion in the present;
a memory of myself,
if for only
fleeting moments

found in future creases
tucked inside pasts.

But the distance
keeps curving
further away.

David Scheler