A Pome a Day for a Year

If you could, where would you go?
Where’s the one spot in the world,
nay, the galaxy,
nay!, the universe,
NAY!, pure existence of all realities
and beings and temporal passings,
that would see you appear?

Do you wish to see the past,
or the future,
or a small island
off the coast of the Philippines
untouched by man,
or the cool cheese craters of
our humble moon, Luna,
or a mountainous range
of freshly adorned snow,
or the deepest trench of the
sea (but with a light source,
so you could actually spy the kinds
of fish down there),
or your own mind, where those
childhood dreams lie underneath
the crushing weight
of adult responsibilities,
aching to be free again?

I would go to space,
to all of the space, to every planet,
every nebula, every dying star,
every forming life,
and see all those faraway
pinpoints of hope,
those silent messages
that out there, out in this
unfathomably large existence,
there has always been light.