This particular extract is from a poem about Faerie, like the place, but for some reason, I read it as a description of the traditional âheavenâ. Isnât this what we all think we want at the end?
If you had a day that stretched until forever, like you knew it would, wouldnât that be perfect? As you stare at their eyes when they smile at you, you donât think about how itâs going to end and how you need to leave in a few hours and how in a few months they will leave you and how in a few years they will not remember you and how in a few decades, no one, no one at all will remember you existed at all. Instead, you look at their lips instead, their beauty that âhas no ebbâ and realise that like your favourite song thatâs now playing endlessly, time is endless too, this moment is endless too. âThe world begins to fade.â
Or maybe it isnât about heaven at all, because there are a million versions of you and the version you are now is not the same as the version you where when you saw this post and began to read it (for better or worse :)). The version of you in that moment exists and is reliving that moment again and again and again for eternity, listening to the same notes and gazing into the same eyes.
But youâre lucky, youâre not like them. Theyâre happy, yes, but you got to be that version and the one after that and the one you are now and so many more you will be. There are so many more versions of you and so many more songs you need to listen to and so many more people you must admire. And you owe it to them. You owe it to the one stuck in the past and the one that hasnât existed to be all of them.
Your moments arenât infinite, you move on and you even forget some of them. But in moments, in these small heavens you create, youâre immortal.
