Maybe we will live past the era of robots,
And time machines will be the norm.
We could swim through oblivion
And greet our future selves.
I would love to.
Would you?
I would love to say hi to her:
A version of me
With a tiny bit of grey about to take root,
But a face still holding on to youth,
Unwilling to let go.
Would you?
Would you like to meet her?
Would you like to meet him?
A you with years journeying on your skin,
A bit closer to its destination.
Who wouldn’t want a chance to ask
If it’s going to be okay,
If this mountain resting on your back
Will stay rooted.
We all want the wondering to cease.
Our craving for answers lingers.
We keep asking if today’s challenge
Will be tomorrow’s relief,
If our smiles won’t be playing
On borrowed time.
But when we meet,
Our tomorrow selves
Will pat our heads, won’t they,
And say:
That fear
That hurt
That struggle
Didn’t break you.
The mountain you carry
Will crumble to gravel,
Running down your back,
Until they become
Nothing but dust.
