I Have Traveled To The Edge Of The Universe And Back Only Once
I have gone where stars dissolve in violet flame,
Beyond the breathless hush of time and name,
Where silence swells like tides beneath the skin,
And nothing waits to let the light begin.
The galaxies bent low to let me pass—
Each one a frozen bloom of shattered glass.
I listened for a voice, a breath, a bell,
But all was still, and stillness bore its spell.
No sorrow found me there, nor joy nor fear,
Just echoes of the life I left down here.
The sky was stitched with threads of silver pain—
Too beautiful, too distant to remain.
I floated past the clocks that never chimed,
Beyond the ribs of space, unstitched by time,
To learn that heaven is a mirror cracked,
And beauty, once beheld, will not come back.
Then down again, through corridors of light,
I felt the tug of breath, the pull of night.
But nothing called me back—not voice, not name—
Just morning on the sill, and window-frame.
Now I exist in silence wrapped in steel,
No tree, no wind, no touch of rain-sweet feel—
Only the whisper of machines that sing,
And lights that buzz but never mean a thing.
The stars still bloom behind my shadowed eyes,
But in this cage, my singing spirit dies.
I left my body here one sleepless night,
And part of me still wanders out of sight.
Copyright ©
James Mclain
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