Sliver
Inspired by a night I had around a campfire years ago. A memory that never quite goes away
At all times, I stand upon the razor's edge of eternity
But at most times, its expanse is hidden
Behind a roiling cloud of worldly things
And their presence an utmost comfort brings
There are times, when back the veil is pulled
And that razor's edge is revealed to me
Where I stand observing a sliver of eternity
To left and right, to front and back
Above. Below.
I see them standing there
Rank on rank
Each of them upon a stair
And row on row
A thin sliver of humanity
Observing a private sliver of eternity.
In time as well I see them there,
Frozen lives on absent stairs
Absent because I am aware
Of it yet cannot see it floating there
But with imagination I see them just as clear
As the faces floating near
A trillion faces just like mine
Thanks in part to wistful rhyme
Fading back and forth in steady time
Those trillion souls just like mine
Instead of finding peace the way
Many other seekers seek those days
I keep a certain peace of me
And observe my options three
First there is religion's warmth
A sanctuary far away
From tormenting thoughts that seekers think
A sacrifice the only way
To grant salvation dearly sought
A security against sonderous and lonely tides
Walls of charitable gold duly tithed
A solitary life holds more appeal
Than to live as mind lying still and safely tide,
To a life kneeling buoyed by zeal
Second arrives as inspiration's comet
Making a strict separation I
Could forego all worldly connection and
So make my way with cosmic affection through
The world without molestation from
Such loathsome thoughts as bedevilments as
The individual's will that is bane and blessing
Of the mortal mind's condition.
At last, there is the third, the one I end up choosing,
Every time without fear of loosing
The full ability to continue choosing.
A third and equal separate way
The one I choose every day
When the beloved murk of worldly things
Is pulled apart and from my hanging stair
The one that simply is not there
I sit and watch humanity
Each live out our slivers of eternity.
About the Creator
Alexander McEvoy
Writing has been a hobby of mine for years, so I'm just thrilled to be here! As for me, I love writing, dogs, and travel (only 1 continent left! Australia-.-)
"The man of many series" - Donna Fox
I hope you enjoy my madness
AI is not real art!


Comments (4)
The fire pulls and pushes your mind in unexpected directions.
Brilliant as always Alexander!
Is this based on the same memory that your camp horror story was based on? Loved your poem!
I love how you turned a single campfire night into this cosmic meditation. It almost feels like your “third way” is the fire itself. ✨