Upon The Traverse Beyond The Quietus Poem by Frank James Ryan Jr...fjr

We were talking the other day
about what happens after death.
You suggested hazed dimensions
becoming clear....in time,
each dimension less impervious
than the one we'd cracked before.

And, I asked if these dimensions
that you speak of... were stages,
or presentations from our lives
in preparation for our passage
from the here now to our journey
stained bodies to repenting souls.

Good question, your response,
then at once you took to silence.
I asked if you were ill;
you motioned you were not;
still your silence carried on-
and the sound was quite maddening.

Soon, my eyes became a blur
and in seconds you were gone-
from my sight, then of sound,
until I stood but all alone
with fear, stark confusion,
the paragon to sudden change,
just a stratum below your presence,
unable to reach your presence,
unable to feel your empath,
as empath never touched me.

What happens to me now,
I stretch my lungs in range,
loud, into nothingness.
It soon becomes too clear;
I had died and you were there
as you always were...always were
'til my passage aborted you,
and for the first time in my Death
I am lost in my self-infliction,
traverse to a point of mirage,
searching for eternal reality-
of a Kingdom beyond all dimensions.




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Frank James Ryan Jr. / FjR