Everyone has limits.
                Not everyone accepts them.
                        -Felix Baumgartner 

There is no such thing
as an infinite endlessness
between two fixed points in space.
We are given starlight as proof of this.

And the furthest away
one can be from another
is in not knowing they exist or
not having faith
in what they can do.

I may not be able traverse light years
but I have discovered
the Earth
is really quite small–

has shrunk, even, in the advent 
of trains and planes and cars,
not to mention our little technologies
or the still-present power
of pen and paper 

So there is little of this world
that I’ve found
truly impossible.

The question now is
what does that mean
for you
and I?

I’ve met lovers who were born
decades apart,
watched people learn to fly again
after rock bottoms of divorce.
A friend of mine hasn’t lived
in the same country as her boyfriend
for years.

My own grandparents began
as a World War II letter 
sent by a woman
to a soldier she’d never met,
so don’t try to tell me
what can or cannot be done.

Ask yourself again,
what does that mean
for you
and I?

If our entire existence can fit inside envelopes 
I will savor every letter.
If our only connections are data and radio waves
I’ll keep my phone forever charged.

If I only get to see you
for one hour out of a busy week
it’ll be the best damn hour of that week.

And in those limited spaces
is the only true endlessness–
the capacity of love
to fill in all the emptiness

and the only impossilities are
if you don’t want this–
which I can say nothing to–
or, more important to the moment now,
if you don’t have faith.

For I believe
somewhere in your skies
is a dim and distant star
just waiting to be seen
and if you can find me,
if you can recognize me and trust
that I can make it home,
I will dive from the cosmos
and through the heavens.

Thus the fearful
and the faithless
will find a way
to collide
in eternal creation.
That’s what all of this means to me.

All that’s left then is
what does all of this mean
for you?