And what is it that separates us all from those now gone?
A vacuous veil, much thinner than frail, fine gold leaf
That we would love to pierce but stay our trembling hand
Since we might mar the sheen of innocence and faith
Or splinter into glistening shards our slender unbelief
And whether knowledge is more terrible than ignorance
We dare not speculate for fear of downright disillusion
And so we let the curtain of uncertainty remain unripped
But if we dare to dream that death has no dominion
Perhaps we gain a fleeting glimpse, a spectral silhouette
Of what will come to be when we ourselves have left.
Unripped Veil
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