The Future Viewed as the Collapse of a Wave Function

I remember the future.
When I was born
It was the size of worlds.
Every time I closed my eyes
I could see galactic whirls
Filled with potentiality.

By the time I was ten,
The future had shrunk
To something merely planetary
In scope and scale.
I could point to some far place
And say that someday,
If I started walking right now,
I could be there before I died.

By the time I was twenty-one
The future had suffered
An environmental catastrophe.
Some Velikovskian god had taken
Whole continents of possibility
And tossed them into the void-dream,
Perhaps to be found by another,
But forever lost to me.

Now the future
Is barely larger than the present;
Where I once wandered
A labyrinth of possibilities,
There are now only
A few dozen paths,
Most of which are pointing
In the same general direction.

One day the future and I
Will collapse to a point.
In the absence of uncertainty
There will only be
The thin line of history
Leading to a singularity.