In the interstitial moment between birth and death a universe comes into existence, something that never before existed and existed always, new and well-known, unseen and visible for eternity.
Measure it well for it is incapable of measurement, and ends without warning and precisely on schedule. In the momentary breath that marks the transit, we proceed nowhere and cannot return to where we began.
He divided time into neat, well organized segments, each precisely the equivalent of each other, some the perfect sum of lessers. This is how it should be and must be he thought, and it made things so much easier for him. He knew when to arrive, and always knew precisely what time it was and would be. He couldn’t understand why others couldn’t seem to arrive on his schedule, never mind that they had divided time into neat segments, each precisely the equivalent of each other and none the equivalent of his tidy temporal order.
They arrive ones and twos accrete dissolve reform, swell the cacophony grows takes on a joyousness as they ebb and flow; the food disappears the wine the laughter draws you in and you want only to circulate but how with shifting nuclei and then the scheduled end and hours later the last slips away and the space falls silent still echoing what went before.
There is a great deal left to be said, and we assume more than enough time for the task, but the ferryman hews to his own schedule and our plans, intentions, desires are beyond his knowledge or caring. It is best to say what you need before recalling that silence is eternal.