All rivers run to the sea.
But this river flows into infinity.
Over the falls it streams into thin air,
Floods high above autumn-colored alps
into trackless atmosphere.
We dive into the cascade,
The currents crest throwing us
high enough to float in air,
blown like kites steered by tailwinds,
into borderless space.
Where are we going now that we’ve gone?
Further than far.
Beyond the limits of imagination
to the ever-unreachable point
where sideways lays the figure 8.