By Michelle Tesauro-Jones
Falling out of touch
Into reach
Within the space
That one could hear You
Climbing down the rope
Where rungs of hope
Are stretched out
Falling into step
Hitting frequency
Reaching depth
Where One awaits to speak
Leaping through the hole
Where there’s nothing else
To hold onto
Tick-tock time stops
For a brief shadow-thought moment
I can see through
To the other side