Whispering to Infinity

Alone as so often he
sat
on the edge of uncertainty.

As if waiting for a next journey on
a park bench
he seemed to
meditate.

Still for the last decades in
hours
minutes or perhaps
even centuries.

Not a breath
not a sound
statuesque under
the dying rags.

Gusts shook the very essence of
another yesterday but he
smiled
for a secret ecstasy.

A soul whispered to infinity
to make contact in
the remote corners of
unknown galaxies.

Nike would come at last
in due time and
there he would die as he had lived
content for the gentle fire inside.