THE FALL

                                        THE FALL





Of places high, of places low

Of places we should not go



Boundary’s pushed but rarely reached. Unattainable  to how we think.



Touched from an invisible light. To guide us not here or there, but to what is right.



The step outside from what is within – a close up to our immortal sin.



Distance weary and time passed over and over.

The hills coloured green, now a memory of Fathers, Fathers, in a time less hot.



The traveler now tired, able to stop.



Of places high, of places low-

It is here we shall never know.