Terminus

From porticoes to parabolas

The distance-journeyed trails

A hewing sea of salted drives,

…The days of the shape-shift

Reaches portmanteau when

The facets of adventure’s experience

Culminates like a cross,

Splitting half-life

To half-death—

         Leaving a collated mixture-stirred

         Spreadable and clean

From balconies to arcing plots

There comes a molecule in time

Where the terminus has collected

All it can.

“Is that all?” said the observer standing by, “that can’t be all, can it now?”

To which the dreamer swiftly passed response, “ If one reaches terminus, then the journey has either ended or permanently stalled.”

{Sigh} does the stander-by, “But…”

Smiling slightly, the dreamer…”But…but of course, if the terminus has been achieved, the terminus has been achieved…but, if you are not satisfied with the journey’s conclusion, or feel like you’d desire some more, you…yes, you, any of you, can simply stand amidst your terminus…and challenge all of your calculations…by simply altering the schematics of that moment…and in its stead, build yourself a terminal...as so the journey shall never end.”