Lost in ecstatic wanderings,
          under an infinite halo of stars.
Everywhere forever.
          Superlative expletive.
Rendered incoherent
          by the enormity of the exclamation.
Tripping over itself,
           in staying with the wave.
In a world I cannot take you,
           even if I want to.

Never a moment when good goes to bad.
           Not a switch in sight.
On the involuntary slide
           to the bottom of the sphere.
Like an oily drop of misery,
           with nowhere left to go.
I ride the deadly storm
           again and again and again.
In a world I would not take you,
            even if I could.

Waiting for the endless cycle
           of insane extreme.
To throw me from the inertia
          of darkest despair,
soaring back to searing joy.
          An overwound spring
snapping forever unpredicted
          in the endless rush from
one infinity to the other and back,
          in the world I am alone.
                                          Brett A. Jones    Sept, 2014
                                                                                                                

Celebration of Both Poles