Bound till the End

I pulled the silk drapes of night back,
and I watch as my darkest reality
merges into nothing
and everything

where the beginning and the end
are cradled in the hands of Mother-time
and fold together, forever in prayer

where the departed
have yet to arrive,
and the living genuflect
on the unknown origin,
of everything and nothing

this wonder was unveiled
in my awe of a universe,
but a cord in the material
of time, unbinds

and now
resting in solitary,
forever confined to the black,
of lost beginnings and abrupt endings  
and worried between the hands
of the Mother

I find I can only hold
one end of the cord at a time,

and its slipping through my fingers