Slipping silently from my mind

Slipping silently from my mind this sense of self, this life of mine. My I-ness melts like film burned by the projector’s light – the cold heat of eternity’s doom. I will not even raise my hand to acknowledge my passing. No, I will bow to my doom. Trembling, I remember life’s losses and the shortfall of love within the weak grasp of my self. I remember my heart that aches with uncertainty and longs for it knows not what. I remember I am reaching down to my self, that I-ness was a shadow of oneness, that my care is as large as all being, that God is me as surely as you. God thinks to run, but for a moment, as he too slides, drawn by eternity’s spiral into quiet. As for the quiet, I cannot speak across that chasm.