Sometimes, sometimes the highway opens up
Among the present passes as we go,
Though distances preside and our small faith
May not outlast the hour for all we know.
Sometimes, sometimes the edge of sunlight holds
Like Zeno’s arrow in its chiseled flight,
And neither will give place nor falling fade
The while each clear moment is in sight.
Sometimes, sometimes the fabled hits of yore
Resound as if the universe were domed,
And risen angels re-enchant the air
In range of every hill where we have homed.
Though doubt detains us and the changing sky
Distils like aether in a crystal cup
For stars to grace without a drop of grief,
Sometimes, sometimes the highway opens up.
Something to Consider
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