I built a boat like an arc,
To cross my chasm of doubt.
To see me safely through the dark
To make a journey safely out.
The boat is gone, it did not hold
And now I know not what to do
The chasm was to rough to cold.
I cannot build the boat anew.
Perhaps I'll climb a mountain top,
Up above where the eagles soar.
But that would be a lonely stop
For I am from the valleys floor.
To date I feel, I take up space,
I guess I'll have to blunder on?
Until at least, I find some Grace.
Or Grace finds me before I'm gone?
It's true I stand a fragile floor,
But with my friends that I adore.