Would not it feel just like the touch of God? (To they who’d never felt before) -7/11/05

Old Time is an abyss whose chasm vast
Holds only isolation in its span
And darkness hiding any other man
Who in the raging maelstrom has been cast;
Nor does the future differ from the past,
So black the road both front and back does fan:
The distance such that, even if you ran,
The moment that you finish is your last.

But what if there were two, by chance or Fate,
Who met and touched, there in the maelstrom wide
And made the black a lighter shade of gray.
He’d say, "Just hold my hand and we’ll keep straight.
Together, we will reach the other side
And I will see you in the light of day."