Bordering Heaven

Between the lines there lies a mystery,
Communicated through notes, a harmony
Of song; such a tender feeling creates
In men the hope to overcome their fates.
But when the music ceases, and the lines
Where past and future blend into the pines
Of the present age, the crease of our soul
Begins to expand as a wave that's full
Of malcontent and mischief; on the wing
Of a hurricane does the soul then fling
Out all decency for deadly chaos,
Sacrifices peace, dreadful holocaust.
Yet within the silence before the blast
Of wind, the stillness before the tempest,
Can be heard the sound of growth in the soul;
Growing from insecurity, a shoal
Of thought swimming for the depths of the sea.
Stuck between those lines is eternity.
For in the blurring of boundaries lies
The key by which the door of growth is kept
Open to all mankind; thus when man cries
Out in the stillness and music inept
Of comfort assails our ears, then does man's
Soul grow wings so as to fly through the air
Rather than swell into chaotic plans
That catches all mankind in a great snare
Of wind and rain, of lightning from clouds dark
With bitterness; for he must now go share
His land with others in the merging park
Of the mystery. So is a choice made
By the blending of lines within the glade
Of earth, sky, and sea, an eternity
Analogously understood to be
As the letting down of fences and walls
In order to share in glorious halls.

                   Bordering Heaven, (c) Luke Bennette, July 2012