Who will come next,
after us?
In a twinkling,
a prodigy of light?
A star bursting in the soul?
Or will it overpower words
and be a mute?
Unravel the web
of our intelligence
and be empty?
Will it wander into the sea
and not look back?
Or go into space
and build houses
of rock and dust on
a lonely moon,
while earth explodes.
Or a loose thread
that’s all that’s left
to knit another destiny
together.
Gone, what might have been.
While, in a universe parallel,
our eyes watch what becomes
of something else.
As if death were not the end,
but a dream,
behind lids that closed.