Measuring and treasuring
the distance between tears.
There is naught like light that cradles the loss of dread found in fears.
And if I was to know what it is truly like to never be alone,
Oh but the sun to moon to earth does know on the sightless edge of an Occamish razor with the deepest cut penetrating through flesh, muscle, sinew and bone
The answer is always in the myth that God in me is home leaving left so very far from alone