was there ever
here before
some refrain of yesterday –
a flame
beyond the dark
to lure us home
a story left
for making sense
as want for one last time
a fate designed by more
than wishful thinking

a stand of pines
a bed of dreams –
between
beyond the river
is something there
reminding us
of ways by which we came
to find the truth
was bound to us
always

for reasons
I dare not explain
life implores the soul –
begin
fading tender graces
older scars
are weaved into the making
of all we’re come
to be

lines are crossed
into the light
again

. . .