We ride a wave. A great and roaring wave racing, but which will never reach the shore. The shore is behind, not ahead. To look behind is to remember, but not to see. The vast sea growing behind the wave hides where it was and will never be again.
We are, and never again.
Ten thousand generations have looked at the same stars, but the light I see was only ever meant for me. You will see a star with the same name, in a similar part of the sky, but it won’t be the star I see. It won’t be the light that crossed a vast ocean to reach me, here. Now.
We are here, and with us are millions whose names you will never know. We are all of us here. It is you who are missing. You, who walk the same streets we did, and sit and marvel at the great majesties of the world as we did. You missed us, but we are here.
The wave out ran us, as it will outrun you. For now you ride the wave. But the wave is fast, and one day you will slide off and sink into the sea. As we did.
We are here, behind the waves of the vast and growing sea of time. We are here, now, forever. You missed us. Be it by an inch or a mile, but you missed us all the same. It doesn’t matter; any distance is the same.
No matter how hard you look for us, you won’t see us. Because you are there, then. We are here, now.
Just a thought I had. Thanks for reading,
Michael
Michael Frutig 