The Gods of old never found the end of the rope.
In either direction - eternity, either way.
And so the world keeps turning, the birds are singing
Here I am, always here, but there is always more of me.
Next to the wild and next to the civil
Always a hybrid between two worlds
Or perhaps many more, if only I could remember them.
Memory may not be all that it is
And we think it is all that we have
But the present is a gift
Because that is where the future is made from the past.
If you want to enter heaven alive
There isn't another soul at all
Who can dream it as perfect as you.
So set your eye upon the wonderful,
The beautiful, the strange - they are all connected here
To the spirit that abounds in every space in every time
Wherever the great rope reaches,
To the end of the world and beyond. ♥