REDEMPTION DOWN THAT DARK CORRIDOR

A silent wrecking ball
in one hand, a prayer in the other; they’re raising
your body from the ground.

The golden thread
splits off in two directions,
with a discovery, a lesson
along the way, calling.

Is there redemption down that dark corridor,
for me or you, where your plane has already
fallen out of the sky and you’re struggling
just to keep your head above water,
where there are many a fist to the face?

Is there a real life down that bright passageway,
where people, old and new faces, are awaiting
your arrival, where a ship sits passively
out in the distance, hoping for its call into the harbor?

Some days, it’s the way
that makes the world a little less alien,
a little less lost, a little less far away.

(December 5, 2007)