The Cosmic Rolodex

We grow old and die, so slowly, and yet in the blink of an eye. Generations flip past on a cosmic rolodex of family names, blurring into each other, losing meaning, ripping out of the deck or quietly going insane. Now and then the spinning stops and a name stands out in full detail, there is a number to call.

We live like angels, we live like trolls. We spread life or disease, we are crawling on our knees, for prayer or despair, for water or for air. Does it matter, does anyone care?

The rolodex spins faster, it is about to blow apart. Life is birthed, shrivels, greys, passes away, replaced by the next card in the pack. Flipflipflipflip! One pair of eyes watches it, fast. Every name memorized in an instant. Details stored in perfect clarity. These eyes know you. These eyes know me.

Time stops.

Ripped pages steeped in blood are piled up on the floor, where they leaped in evil glee after torturing humanity. One pair of hands sweeps them up and tosses them into the fire. The same hands lovingly straighten the mass of crumpled names that remain on the sullied desktop, smoothing out each crease, tending to each tear.

His desk is wiped clean, his work re-arranged, and quietly does he write each name into brand new card file. Pristine, intact. A thousand years pass. It is a blink of his eye, his pen moves so fast.

You wake up. You and I.

~WilderSoul

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1 Comment

  1. michaellincolncravey

     /  Thursday, 9 January 2014 at 3:19 pm

    Reblogged this on Spontaneous Creativity.

    Reply

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