And do you simply step through a veil, just slip the knot, that bars the way hidden, push through the semblance of a gap - as you hear me lift the latch on green and cranky squealing gate? And step across the grass, dipping under white blossomed branches as I reach the point again where I stand by and find the solace here mesmerizing, in the beauty, peace and love of this place. Or now mingled with your maker do you transmute through all things, becoming notes in bluest ether up above from skylarks tongues? Or moving at will float down to reach the earth embodied gently in the confetti of petals here from this gnarled rough wooded tree? Or becoming iron latch and just for one second holding my hand,as I try to reach out to you again beyond this gate?

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