Edge of the Universe

When I was a boy I used to try and imagine the edge of the universe, and what I came up with was a red brick wall, going on and on, all around the edge. Of course, whenever I imagined this, I realized there must be another side to this brick wall, and so it couldn't be the edge after all.

With seeing who I am, seeing the single eye, I now see the edge of the universe. It is right here, within my experience. But it is a peculiar place. I can't look at it directly. It isn't an edge like other edges - which always have another thing on the other side. This edge is the edge between things and nothing. It isn't a clear line, but fades out gradually - but that description doesn't quite hit the mark. Nevertheless, there it is, the edge of the universe. My boyhood quest has been answered. R.L. UK

When I was a girl I used to try imagine from whence I came. I would lie in bed at night before going to sleep, quite often, and try to imagine me and then what came before me and then what came before that, and that, and that, ad infinitum, until I got to the essence or middle of "that," which was nowhere. Now seeing from the single eye I still can go that route and at the center is the "I" that contains all that. And my girlhood quest has been answered. K.

This Only

A valley and above it forests in autumn colors.
A voyager arrives, a map leads him there.
Or perhaps memory. Once long ago in the sun,
When snow first fell, riding this way
He felt joy, strong, without reason,
Joy of the eyes. Everything was the rhythm
Of shifting trees, of a bird in flight,
Of a train on the viaduct, a feast in motion.
He returns years later, has no demands.
He wants only one, most precious thing:
To see, purely and simply, without name,
Without expectations, fears, or hopes,
At the edge where there is no I or not-I.
 
~ Czeslaw Milosz ~

(The Collected Poems, 1931-1987, trans. by Robert Hass)