Endings

EndingsEO

#poetry, #endings, #chiasmus

Why is it that when thinking about endings I immediately think of death? There are all these other endings to think about.

The end of the day, the end of the line, the end of a storm.

Endings we long for, like the end of a root canal treatment or the end of labor.

The end of war.

Endings that come with us, moving through time. Or with time, moving through us.

Then there is the end to an object. But how to decide what the end is?

‘You sit on that end of the table, I will sit at the other end.’ Or do I sit at the beginning of the table, being it is opposite to the end? Does this mean a table has multiple endings, beginnings or both?

A square table could have four endings. It also has four corners. These corners are the furthest apart.

Nobody wants to sit at these corners. They can be sharp and hurt you. But if they are the furthest apart should they not qualify as endings, and beginnings.

In my head I draw a line from one corner of the table to the opposite corner. And from the other corner to its opposite corner. They cross each other in the middle. Beginning and ending meet.