The Uncrossable Chasm

Even before this journey started, you wrapped yourself intricately around every detail of my life. At many times during this walk, I felt very weary and like a was falling apart. You always continued forward but I sometimes chose to collapse onto the dusty road like a child and soak myself in tears, defiance and frustration. Faithfully, you always came back for me and sternly, but lovingly, order me onto my feet and to keep moving.

Along this journey, you told stories about your plans, the past and my purpose. Although I have to admit, even though I nodded my head in agreement, sometimes your plans didn't make sense to me. 

We sang songs loudly and laughed together. I showed you tricks that surely you had seen a million times before but you always acted like it was the first. In return, you showed and taught me wonderful things but unlike you, I was truly hearing and seeing for the first. 

If I misstepped or got to close to the edge, you rebuked me. You always stood back and watched as I interacted with other travelers. Like a teacher, hovering over every one of my words, actions and thoughts. Never failing to point out errors and to request corrections.

At night, when we rested from our daily travels, you would sit next to me, hand me a cup of your water and wash my face and feet with your linen cloth. Beside the crackling fire, I rested my head on your shoulder and closed my eyes under your sky. Always a peaceful sleep that ended with a gentle kiss, a welcome to a new day and food for the next part of our journey.

Now the road has abruptly ended at a wide chasm and starts again far on the other side - a stretch that's beyond my human reach and ability. I'm looking at you in confusion and you keep saying:

"Step into the palms of my hands."

Not possible. Possible. May be possible. Possible? Nope, not possible. This is impossible! All things are possible.

Kyle Christian Steele