The place
where the land merges
to one
great expanse
but still
diverges
into
two

upon a line
blurred
by the windy howls
and the brisk
sharp whispers
that caress it

Upon this line
feet do not sweep
away
wasting
purpose
though they may
skim it
placing
pebbled
dirt

Rosy cheeks
grow numb
and fingers hard
Blood thins
and thickens

And for a brief moment
one may stand
upon this line

And one may see clearly
beyond it
both ways

and let eyes linger
to the mountain peeks
bathed in summer’s
fingers
brilliant
are its
meadows
blossomed 
sweet and ripe
with dew dripping pedals
whose roots
entwine
and seem
to give life
to one another

skim the juices
that may burst
from fruits
grown plump
on trees
long and
flaked with age
yet beating
with warmth

Now just let
mind wander
once more
to the other side

darkened
by clouds
which shield
from it lightness

But do not let
sight deceive
in this beyond

Do not mistake
darkness
for treachery

If one reaches
hand outstretched
into this beyond

May it touch
chilled steel
devoid
of life
that clings
so preciously
to the other
side

or may it
encounter
knowledge
and yet
again
life
in
ageless darkness

Never known
to the side
of summer’s
fingers may
it be

But if one
must venture
forth
from this line
to the place
of darkness

For
numbness
has been
forever
entombed in
veins

Go on now
and do not
seek out
fear

But
freedom

Even
be it
from the nurture
of summer’s
fingers.