The Other Side

Peace is on the other side of the hill. Everything is moving in fast motion. Not a motion to waste as moments become relics of yesterday. The mountaintops are flattened, and the wastelands have vanished turning into the broken pottery of a bygone passage. The moaners are crying for their loss as reality topple their thoughts. With little more than a cracked jar of notions, the experts shout for joy. They proclaim the unknowable. They give cause and effect to a distant impact event.

On the other side of the hill, the wind swept the carpet under the rug. Those who not adapt loaded their closets with temporal wealth. Everything is good for the day. Time, space, and matter go about their way. They leave a void in the continuum where they were an instant before. Everyone knows that the end will come. There is evidence of planet Earth’s habit of creating extinction events. The Moon and Mars are not safe havens. The universe will prevent the ravagers of the earth from spoiling other worlds.

On the other side of not have experienced before is the presumption of a silent unknown. It is a region where the day to day cease and there is no night. The hopeful call this realm the afterlife, the pessimistic call this region physical death. Fear covers this region because the living have only experienced life. Even those who have undergone a near-death experience can’t be certain. They still wonder if their minds were playing tricks on them.

Beyond the hype, the prestige, and the personal opinions, the bowl is empty of salad. The filled go hungry. The empty is famished. The carnivorous have slaughtered and devoured all the animals. There are no birds to flock. No fish to spool. Spoons, knifes, and forks are no longer necessary. Not a thing or a person on the planet can produce a carbon-footprint. The solar system is not derailed. The Sun remains in its place. The spin of the Milky Way galaxy is not altered. The cosmos has not felt a thing.

Well on the other side of something or other is just another day in the morgue. The egg rolled down the hill and smashed into a noodle. No one blamed the egg. No one blamed the noodle for this incident. Things happen, and many times they do not. A rotten twig burst into flames. A gullible mind is filled with all types of nonsense. They are undaunted in their belief that their thinking is sensible. Torrents of environmental and mental pollution have dulled the rule of a sound mind. There is no way around the simmering chestnut that blocks the way.

One day means nothing to the other and on the other side of consciousness the unknown awaits.