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The road we walk is desolate and dark at times,
twilight at the start, descending into black;
forlorn and hopeless, if we walk the road alone.
But if we’re hand in hand with those we love,
or with that deeper Love that holds us close,
we record the landmarks of our souls steadily,
and know them as our own.
Then still we have strength to walk the road on through
to that blood red dawn of unimaginable beauty and grace.
There will be bright light, and fresh air, and cool breezes
plenty for those who love, and know that Life is Love.
The darkness is real, the shadow not merely ephemeral,
and the life that knows its circle full will know these, too.
But darkness need not end in despair and sadness
any more than Life ends with death; there is a something other,
beckoning us to walk on, in hope, even when the night
seems darkest, even when light fades.
For when we travel a darkened street, with heart
alight inside with love, the dark (and even pain)
become no longer fear (but peace),
nor evil (but mystery).
What was once a desolation we now see, truly,
as the womb of our new birth.
Rather than flee, we dance--
amazed by the tough reality and splendor of it all--
we run-- then fly-- not in fear, but in anticipation.
A life that is alive knows that all is passing away,
but that all is real, too: and in that reality lies our greater Life:
our Friend, our God, our Hope-- a life of unending
day and endless night; perfect splendor of both dark and light.
jbs
1/23/03 - 1/26/03
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