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The road we walk is desolate and dark at times,
twilight at the start, descending then to black;
forlorn and hopeless, if we walk that road alone.
But if we’re hand in hand with those we love,
or with the deeper Love that holds us close,
we record the landmarks of our souls steadily,
and know them as our own, and then have the strength
to walk the road on through to that blood red dawn
of unimaginable beauty and grace.
There is bright light and wondrous splendor 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.
But it will know as well that the road ends
no more in the sadness than Life itself ends with death;
there is a always something more, something other,
beckoning us to walk on in hope,
even when the night seems darkest, and the light fades.
For when we travel a darkened street, with hearts alight with love,
the dark (and even pain)
becomes no longer fear (but peace);
nor evil (but mystery);
and what was once a desolation
now we see, truly, as the womb of our new birth.
Rather than flee from life, we dance--
amazed by the tough reality and splendor of it all;
we sing-- and run-- not away from life in fear,
but toward it, in deepest anticipation.
A life that is alive knows that all is passing,
but that all is real, too:
and in that Reality lies our greater Life--
our Friend, our God, our Hope;
a life undying; unending day and night;
perfect splendor of both dark and light.
jbs
1/23/02 - 12/14/03
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