How does one say what is near beyond telling
though somewhere inside of the soul lies the sum
waving the pen but forgetting the spelling
of all the beginnings discreetly begun.
Set your foot on your bridge and I on mine
yours the burden and slow approach
under a river where doubts repine
pray that a moment of truth encroach.
And when I find it--by hard work or mercy
smaller it is than such moments should be
but triteness becomes to me all the more worthy
mountains diminishing, revealing me.
Where you begin at is but the beginning
of endings which could be the breath of forgiving.