A fork in the road appears in the mist
It is a knife edge to my mind
The parting comes towards me
Like the front of a ship
Breaking in as through a wave
The force has to crack in
It must because choice is free
And so the choosing is real
It is a hairline whip of difference
But thus it appears narrow as a knife
That thin slither between death and life
A word splutters then at the mouth
That flush of fresh water into salt tides
It is language and flesh dancing
In the mist and through the waves
And its dance is fully I and you turning
Into the road that is flooded now
With colour and lips spilling song
Saying the writing on the page
From here and into what will come
Is forever amen an illumination
The intrigue of darkness is over
There is only the beauty worn steps
Spooning up the interior castle
Of the love beauty bound world
Where the passage is into light
And there is no turning back from here