Somewhere Inbetween

That last one is gone. And sad that. of the greatest and most poignant, to me anyway. And in such, itself poignant. Not replaceable or re-buildable. One of its kind. And on pondering I found so much that I had not thought. No longer blurred by so much darkness. Not lost in a sea of evil. Uplifting. A creation apart. There hidden, as was believed. Hidden in the plainest of sight. And that is the crime. Timing? Meaning? yes. Likely. And then what to wear? Having nothing appropriate unprepared. And sadly by choice.
In a deadlock. Possibly only purely imagined. Between what is fair and what is wanted. The one driving some semblance of decency the other only a dream. Not something my friend, everything. Without a role, remaining left on stage. Hoping to become a prop. For it is half the battle. That is true. Even then not knowing the scale or the forces involved. A box within a box. And I suppose with a theoretical limit. No matter the darkness of the sky or the depth of the rain.

And yet, there they are. Changed and grown. In some ways nearly the same as they have always been. And so it may be that He sees them. As a climber. Seeking the top. Never summited, by them at least. A path hard to follow. Hard to be found. With so many distractions. And yet they climb. Forget their novice in path finding. Forget that their path is inevitably treacherous. Forget them grasping for holds on the rock face. Forget them lost in the brush and the wood. Forget them backing oft to find a better way. They climb. These are not they which forget the summit. Nor return to the valley. They climb. Slow. In danger. They climb. That is all He sees. As that is what they see. Their path foolish to some from a better vantage? Surely. But such deny the climber his own vantage. For no matter the perspectived view, that alone, his reality. A better way. Yes. But God is no bus-driving tour guide. No, He too is a climber.