We all are estranged to life
in ways far beyond ourselves,
no matter the persistence with which we wonder
it never forgives us for simply being.
Death is life's
At the outer edge of the universe
-as at the edge of night's darkness-
we come only to look back and attempt understanding
in the dim light lingering on from long dead stars.
There may be no answers. Nor even
any worthy questions of sincerity,
for in the final analysis, it may come to be,
not what, why or how, rather only
"To where? ".