The Memorial

Ron Koppelberger

The Memorial

The expressway of incredible existence, the existence of bare gatherings in substance and circumstance, in indigenous kaleidoscopes of life, love, and passion merged with his cognate mind. A thousand histories and a million lives all written in fulfillment of the memorial.
Lofty egress and taller cities of stature led him to read the embossed brass plate,

“NEW YORK”

And beneath a triune symbol in black and yellow. The extravagance of the garden was a full circle of catastrophe and rebirth. The planet was an uninhabited Eden. Ancient ruins of unknown origin lay scattered in the lush tangle of trees and scrub. Birth and rebirth, the legend of his forefathers, the legend called earth lay before him. The spacecraft was a pregnant womb, a precursor to the world that would be. The space angel read the dusty brass plate again and sighed, the new plate would read,

“EDEN”

From heaven to Earth he thought, from heaven to earth.