He himself must be the key, now, to the next door, the next terrors of freedom and joy. - Denise Levertov

Two girls discover the secret of life
in a sudden line of poetry.

An awe so quiet I don't know when it began.
A gratitude had begun to sing in me.
Was there some moment dividing song from no song?
When does dewfall begin?
When does night fold its arms over our hearts to cherish them?
When is daybreak?

I am so small, a speck of dust moving across the huge world. The
world a speck of dust in the universe.

Are you holding the universe? You hold onto my smallness. How do you grasp it,
how does it not
slip away?

I know so little.

You have brought me so far.