Photo Stuart Yeates, Creative Commons


there was kindness, and something more in his telling,
of how he’d laid out the bridge before him
from where he was to where God was going,
arching his brow to catch my gaze,

knotted tying as he went, rope-work leading on into next:
this is how I knew to do it, or really, simply how I did,
chasm crossing without knowing, courage asking, twining grip

and then, the landing when we reached it! that we’ll reach together soon,
looking back and laughing, weeping, fog around us sifting past,
looking round us each one breathing, each one daring reach a step,

as if we were were meant for dancing, as if we were here to brave,
as if we on backward gazing knew you’d span us even this.


William B. Jones, Oct. 18, 2013
(photo Stuart Yeates, Creative Commons)


2 thoughts on “rope-work

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