Eternal Universal Theory
The Universe—no Hourglass—
Unspills its silent Sand—
No Final Bell—no Curfew rung—
By any mortal Hand—
It keeps its Secrets—like the Sea—
That never quite admits
Whether it ends—or merely folds
Its Shores to other Fits—
A Star—may seem to Perish—
Yet only learns to Hide—
As Truth—when pressed by Time—slips on
An Everlasting Side—
If Birth be but a Door ajar—
And Death—another Frame—
Then Motion is Eternity
And Stillness—just a Name—
I ask no Priest—nor Telescope—
To certify the Whole—
The Infinite—confides itself
In Pulses—felt by Soul—
So let the Theorist—be still—
And hear what Silence knows—
The Eternal—does not Argue—
Where it simply—Goes—
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