No End

Here's the secret:
there is no end.
They say time heals
all wounds.
I say we are the wounds
in the green body
of Time herself.
We harden into berries,
swell, blush, fall, burst,
surrender our seed.
Worms discover us and
write their black
letters of emptiness
in our flesh.
Somehow our veins
awaken, filled with
golden light and we are
breathing sky again.