THE CROSSING

Near tears.

No not near.

There.

A leap of faith
I now no longer
need to take.

It’s took.

I’ve breached the breadth
of one said stream–
what looked a river,
despite my spine-chill-prompted shiver,
was but a brook.

Thank mother, father–
earth below, and heaven above her. . .

My whole life
stretched out many miles,
flashed bright and clear. . .

After a while,
tears run dry
give way
to warm
and deep-felt smiles. . .

Toss out the face
too long
bounced back from glare
upon the window,

panes open up,
drapes flare,
like a tall ship’s sail,
which broad and high
does billow. . .

Behold
what’s out there,
spot a path,
and step bold forth,
since you’ve found
the true north
you can follow.

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