Absolute Zero

On the darkest night I sit outdoors facing North. I see the cold far off...moving slowly toward me. I turn my chair around, facing South, in search of hospitality; but the cold is there also. What is the past and the future? Surely the very same being, disguised only slightly different. A way of seeing, or being seen. A cold gaze, or a warm glance. A fever, or a chill. A haunting, or a calling. Where are the ends of the universe, and: How cold must it get, before the warmth begins to return? I leave the comfort of a chair, lying down directly upon the old earth, and look straight up into a trillion stars, coming and going through every night I will ever know. Ironically, pondering the depths of the coldest temperatures in the universe I discover the greatest warmth, the eternal nature of creation. I no longer fear the cold, for it shall never have me. Now, I am forever warm.