There is a cliff,

Beyond the end of our “No Exit” road,

Up onto the trail,

Through the Cathedral  Woods.

There is a cliff,

Left, onto the side trail,

Carefully up the steep ridge,

Past the moss-covered rocks.

Stranded here thousands of years ago,

Luminous now in the softening light.

There is a cliff,

Coming into view now through the trees,

And my steps are quicker

As I think of you,

Your heart soaring,

As, once more, you saw the place that gave you joy,

That set you free for precious moments,

From unbearable pain.

There is a cliff,

Here where you stood alone,

Letting your pain fall away,

Looking out

Beyond this bay called Hope,

Across the wider waters

To a distant horizon,

But always, always coming home.

You may wonder what might have been:

Friends and lovers you could have met

And loved, and they you;

But this is the greatest love,

The spirit that moves in these woods,

That walked with the child you were,

That stands with you now,

comforting, embracing, restoring

Your daily-breaking heart.

Giving you life again,

Telling you, yes, yes, this is where I belong.

I see you again,

Homemade easel, new canvas under one arm,

Under the other, a tin box, paints and brushes .

You close your eyes,

And in a moment of exquisite relief,

Head up, raised to the sky as if in prayer,

You take a deep breath of fresh, free air.

Your eyes open now, I see you bow your head,

Knowing you can’t stay here forever,

Not yet.

There is a cliff:

This is where you used to stand.

“I saw through my tears,”

You said many times,

But no one came to wipe them away.

Did you know I would find you?

I hope so, and also

That you hear me now, I hope,

Here, take my hand,

And we will stand here together,

Becoming more luminous in the darkness

As we wait.