In this age time will be unlocked.
Youth will stay, and dying
a luxury of the rich
too jaded to go on.
We will have discovered
the fountain of hope,
of never re-occurring generations.
Only ourselves,
forever,
to roam the beaches
until every dawn burns itself
inside us.
No children to distract our musing,
our endless lovemaking,
the houses we will have lived in
until they fall,
and we turn to the mountains
for certainty.
Something that will seem
to last as long as we,
although they too will go and leave us.
We will defeat eternity,
having learned to live forever,
until eternity says enough,
and leaves.
The universe dissolves
into occasional vapors,
and somewhere,
the laughter of children,
the crying of the bereaved,
the silence of death
and joy of resurrection,
will become myths
that cause us in solitude
to wonder,
was death a curse or blessing?
Can spring ever return with its love?