27/04/2026
In this space between us,
where nothing can be touched
and yet so much is held,
there is a living current,
an energy passing
back and forth, back and forth,
swift as thought,
so swift at times
neither of us can name it,
only feel
its pull.
Oh, how we feel it.
Sometimes we meet there
like wrestlers in the dark,
sometimes tumbling through grief,
others diving after truth.
Sometimes you grow small,
retreating to corners,
running, hiding,
afraid of what waits
in the open,
Still, the space remains.
Endless and wide,
never empty though,
no, never that.
And not full,
yet somehow brimming
all the same.
It gathers whispers:
fears, worries, old frights.
It carries sparks:
wonder, joy, delight.
It shelters the fragile shape
of possibility …
those tender things
that can only, for now,
be dreamed,
spoken,
left unspoken,
seen,
left unseen.
And all of it,
every silence, every tremor, every hope,
is felt
in this space between us.
* AI image generated from my words
