When a wrinkle snaps taut
And the gossamer thins,
The curtain tears.
You can see within
For just a moment.
And, you know where you’ve come from.
You feel where you’ve been.
You recognize the age old pains,
And realize the scanty, meager gains
Humanity’s made—
Maybe even retrograde,
In retrospect.
But there is something so comforting,
Something so droll,
To comprehend the agelessness of the stroll
You take for this short span,
And to know the great company you keep,
The cloud of witness that never sleeps,
The nothing-ventured-chance-you’ll-live-again
Allows a bit of bravery.
-jenn long
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