Wide

Mangling time’s perfection.
Insistent.
Persistent in the notion
“I’m aware.” “Informed.”
I dare to doubt the
consistent, devout
faultless guide of galaxies wide
and oceans clear, explode or roll near
all the while, eons or a mile
away
never knowing fear, they. Deserted
in the barren undertow of my mind.
Confined. In spaces limited, the ending’s
where I find consolation. Isolation.
Imprisoned emancipation
is still 
a death not defied.
Only without answers
come the questions
to the wonders,
the wanders
laced in courage
for every laugh
I’ve laughed
for every tear I’ve cried.
Step back.
Look
Wide.