THE ENDLESS

The road does not end

within us or after:

We are bound to rise

as a sea of roar and laughter.

And when darkness turns to silver

and all others are lost from sight,

we begin a song, a tinkling,

that remembers our night.

As we slowly lose that wisdom,

and wear off the blind thrill,

we gain in speed and lose in body,

but our mind breathes on still.

We sacrifice to beauty

the learning of the past,

and the trembled heart opens

into a passage at last.