There were no shortcuts,
no way to stitch the immense canvas of space –
the only road lay upon the hills and valleys of the continuum.
We followed filaments,
a journey of eons –
no longer alive,
for nothing living could
travel so far, for so long.
And so we came to the Sculptor Wall –
370 million light years long : 230 million light years wide : 45 million light years deep;
but we were immune to vastness,
our intellects cold,
our imaginations long since discarded.
Our origin we have forgotten –
time itself is an artefact of the past.
The present is endless.
We live in redshift space now,
our minds imprisoned by physics,
trapped within the infinite universe.
Embedded in the endless Now
as we traverse the Sculptor Wall.