Child playing in a sandbox

so little time.

Knowledge, like the universe, gradually unfurls,

revealing new stars, constellations more

exquisite than a Rodin curve.

Soon though, there will be no secrets, 

only the memory of discovery. 

It's like the first delicate stripping 

of lace from a slender limb;

followed then by the smell of absence,

like dust falling through the air,

a temporary drifting; knowing

that all dreams rust with age

as they lie asleep in the 

promise of being.

Reviews

[Bare trees]

This is incredibly moving to read. A perfect poem.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

this is fantastic...and especially the idea that there will no longer be secrets to discover...only the memory of the ones we already have discovered.

and that is absence.

j.

[Ed Hart]

m'lady...i like this one best of all...the things we love draw out the best in us