Written Without Ending

The journey taken is always to the beginning. There is no other destination.

It is a long, inescapable remembering: a faltering recall, syllable by syllable, of the begetting word.

Who comes to a halt, short of it, has no more won

than a brief respite, a suspended breath: before the inexorable going-on to his own birth.

of 5 stories this month > Get unlimited stories
You've read 5 of 5 free stories

Only $1 for your first month.

Get unlimited Monitor journalism.