By searching for infinity
you create infinity.
An assumption that it exists
only held in the ether of probability.
Because to search for the existence of infinity
doesn't mean it is ever going to be there - how can it?
The length of time to discover infinity is infinite
therefore, it means only one thing:
infinity starts where it finishes and vice versa.
The 'infinite' question of existence
is as infinite as that it sets out to answer.
If black holes are capable of swallowing stars and galaxies,
without so much as a hiccup,
then the presence of an infinite universe,
boggles my mind.
And that, for me, really sucks.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
In my beginning is my end, East Coker. Too mind boggling really. For every answer there's a further question. I like this poem. Tom Billsborough