Infinity is a Field

by Aly Northrup

Infinity is a field of cerulean flax
Blooming, broken golden stalks and seeds,
Life and death a reliable whim of the world,
Earth recycled,
Horizon to horizon, blue then gold, then blue again,
No beginning

                                                                               No end

Waves of useful,

                              worthless,

                                                    infinite

                                                                   gold.

And I run my fingers through her deep-rooted hair,
I play with the stuff of the universe—
Stringy, tangled, quivering fibers,
Matter and shadow enmeshed in matter and shadow,
Amiably drowning in the ocean that never ends. And

I am

alone.