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Sunday, August 16, 2015

Beyond What We can See

Out in the darkness, beyond what we can see,
There is a place in our imagination, where all can be free.
But we live in A world, where the dark is out of sight,
Just on the other side of a wall, that we fear, called the night.
 
Out there in the darkness, where I know you are,
As distant from me now as a faint vanishing star.
That is where only my imagination can go.
Even though I know that it is just my aching soul.
 
Maybe where you are, all is clarity and light.
Or maybe you sleep a dreamless dream in eternal night.
All I know for sure, is that one day I'll join you there.
In a place deep in the earth, where I won't have to care.
 
Meanwhile, I'm here, with other strange survivors.
Dwindling in numbers, huddling against the cold.
We sail in a vessel that is leaking and is sinking.
Comforted by memories of when our fine ship sailed the seas.
We might be a fine wine, we might be just the lees,
But we are temporary survivors of this process called growing old.
 
Christopher H. Holte, written 8/16/2015

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