27 VOLUME 9 |ISSUE 2 |2018
The Place on the Edge of Forever
God if I could live next to the ocean, and the woods, if I could hear
the roar of the waves and the howl of the wind, if I could stand on
a rock that jutted out into the sea, and feel the spray on my face,
then I would be happy.
If I could stretch my body like a sail and take the buffeting and
bruising of the wind. If I could have the years that have been
made to hang on my face blasted away with fine grains of sand,
where my cheeks tightened in the salty air, and my blue eyes
reflected the sea. And once again I was made young. I would be
happy.
A part of my soul craves the wild abandon at the edge of the
world. The place where thunderstorms bring ragged raging waves
higher and higher and slap them down like a gambler’s empty
shot glass is slammed against some forgotten bar in the Old West.
And at night I would be so worn out from the day that I would
fall fast asleep in a bed so soft in dreams so deep I could reach
Atlantis and walk among the ruins and carry the lost souls
trapped in ruins of sunken ships to heaven.
God, I would be so happy at that place at the edge of forever.
Tell me such a place exists and take my hand and lead me there.
The Place on the Edge of Forever
God if I could live next to the ocean, and the woods, if I could hear
the roar of the waves and the howl of the wind, if I could stand on
a rock that jutted out into the sea, and feel the spray on my face,
then I would be happy.
If I could stretch my body like a sail and take the buffeting and
bruising of the wind. If I could have the years that have been
made to hang on my face blasted away with fine grains of sand,
where my cheeks tightened in the salty air, and my blue eyes
reflected the sea. And once again I was made young. I would be
happy.
A part of my soul craves the wild abandon at the edge of the
world. The place where thunderstorms bring ragged raging waves
higher and higher and slap them down like a gambler’s empty
shot glass is slammed against some forgotten bar in the Old West.
And at night I would be so worn out from the day that I would
fall fast asleep in a bed so soft in dreams so deep I could reach
Atlantis and walk among the ruins and carry the lost souls
trapped in ruins of sunken ships to heaven.
God, I would be so happy at that place at the edge of forever.
Tell me such a place exists and take my hand and lead me there.
