the spaces between remind me of you
because that blink and unseen shape of time
is just a crack in a doorway to the worlds
within that we rarely see.
I can feel the hints of a loving presence always surrounding,
cradling the stars and sun.
And when each star eventually falls and burns out,
I’ll see your face in the shooting
trails of light left behind,
the final flaring pulse before becoming
another dark patch in the sprawling sky.
The residue left over will remain still,
invisible elements clinging to space,
proving that you were there
to mark me forever.
You are in everything I see,
the spaces between time blinking and stuttering,
hiding your shape throughout every inch of the world,
every door I open and work to unlock.
I can feel hints of a loving presence breathing
through cracks in the earth,
always surrounding, cradling the ground and oceans.
And when each fault line eventually ruptures below,
I’ll see your face in the splitting ground,
in the stone monuments left behind,
and in the aftershock’s last tremble before
swallowing all that we’ve come to know.
The mass of sediment and water left over will remain still,
invisible elements refusing to part because
you are all I see.
You are all the spaces
that once existed between time’s strings,
pulling and surrounding,
waiting to mark me forever.
