The Great Unknown

A hundred miles of solid grey Reaching out across the empty plain. It doesn’t shift, it doesn’t breathe. It just takes the wind. It just drinks the rain. A monolith standing in the dark. The seasons turn and fall away, Unnoticed by the heavy stone. But once a year, from out the sky, A little sparrow comes alone. And lands upon the quiet edge. Just one minute in the cold. A tiny beak against the mass. A microscopic grain of dust, Before he lets the moment pass. And flies back into the great unknown. You won't see the mountain shrink. I won't live to watch it fade. But every year the bird returns, To dull the surface, dull the blade. Until the rock is worn to air. And when the shadow is completely gone... When a hundred miles are swallowed by the wind. No stone left to break the horizon line. When the empty air begins. Just one minute in the cold. A tiny beak against the mass. A microscopic grain of dust, Before he lets the moment pass. And flies back into the great unknown. When there is nothing left... That is one second of eternity. One tick of the clock in the dark. So close your eyes. Goodnight.