Narrow is the boundary
of "now" and "not-yet"
Deep and dark it stretches
like an ancient passageway
no map has ever marked.
One by one we walk it
step by solitary step.
Not hand in hand,
Not side by side,
But sounding the distance with our tears.
Hope is the chorus sounding, "Come!"
Hope is the embrace, waiting to welcome.
Hope is the companion,
In-Between . . .
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth...
Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing...