On the threshold of the Universe,

at the cliff-edge

where the impossible becomes

real,

 

And with it, fear:

why me, at this time,

--and her?

 

Standing at a crossroads

of galaxies

of light years

of lifetimes

of synchronicity

of coincidence

of circumstance

of attachment

of existence

--and not.

 

And not.

Still.

 

Turning slowly against gravity,

heart in throat,

I accompany this one back

to reclaim a home among stars.

 

Back, through fear:

What was real?

Will I remember?

Will I not remember?

Will I ever be my whole self again?

 

I go as far as my weary body can.

My heart goes farther

yet,

and still.

 

Tears pass,

years pass.

 

And I come to know

this one who is of me

is with me

and I her

--and still.

 

I smile and tell her:

I love you so.

 

In the close stillness

of reply

there is God.

 

And so,

her.

And still.

Name Withheld