121

one of her many secrets was that the refuge sought
by those who felt the need to withdraw
was actually no other than that readily granted
to all those who remained immersed in the everyday.

.
.

120

being boundless,
many had the impression
that she was homeless.

yet her door was always open
—even to them.

.
.

119

hers was a familiar darkness.

.
.

118

by hiding,
she revealed herself.

.
.

117

some found it necessary to weather the storm
when the light rained down in a torrent,
and so sought shelter in the shade.
others, even if blinded, remained
until sodden with light.
and then there were those rare few
who seemed to be washed away
as easily and completely as their shadows...

.
.

116

of course there was a beyond.
yet it could only be found
by scrutinizing those things,
so often overlooked,
lying close at hand.

.
.

115

the errant too
would stumble upon her,
though unknowing
they often remained.

.
.

114

there was never any need for tears
for the earth wept skyward.

.
.

113

resting in her shadow,
it was the little things
which tended to be
the most certain.
.
.

112

some spoke of having met her once,
others of their closeness and familiarity,
yet it was the mute who tended to provide
the surest glimpse.

.
.

111

wherever her gaze fell
another altar would be found.

.
.

110

the fearless discovered
that there was no shore—
she would always remain
fathomless
and without horizon.

.
.

109

for some life became so overwhelming
that they resorted to pleas
which they mistakenly thought were left unheeded;
while the fortunate simply realised
that the sky was an answer in itself.

.
.

108

unbounded
by the lines of existence,
she would always remain.

.
.