Falling
I would like to think that after death
You’re on your own, just falling.
You know, the kind of falling where
You’ve been so long in the air
That you can’t really fall anymore
But you haven’t quite dropped?
And the light is spinning around you,
And you’re in a sort of vacuum,
And no one can touch you, because
You’re no more and no less?
I think I’ve been falling a long time now
Without dropping; happening without being.
You know, the kind of living where
You’ve spent so much of the air
That your head is a minefield of things
Which you cannot quite drop?
And you cannot quite stop?
But you cannot keep on with it, either,
Knowing you’re inches away, but
The same time a million miles?
I would say there’s a moment you live in
Which never quite passes,
And never lives up to its promise,
But promises nothing .
I would like to think that after death
You’re on your own, just falling.
You know, the kind of falling where
You’ve been so long in the air
That you can’t really fall anymore
But you haven’t quite dropped?
And the light is spinning around you,
And you’re in a sort of vacuum,
And no one can touch you, because
You’re no more and no less?
I think I’ve been falling a long time now
Without dropping; happening without being.
You know, the kind of living where
You’ve spent so much of the air
That your head is a minefield of things
Which you cannot quite drop?
And you cannot quite stop?
But you cannot keep on with it, either,
Knowing you’re inches away, but
The same time a million miles?
I would say there’s a moment you live in
Which never quite passes,
And never lives up to its promise,
But promises nothing .