Crevice

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It's in between the small shadows that separate us, a crevice rarely seen but influential, the essence of all that binds us into one type of human, beneath the superficial quarrels or feigned differences of trifles, a certain kinetic power that electrifies our very being, some call it the soul for shorthand, an idea that has certainly endured. 

Forget there's no evidence at all you could submit to any court, yet the echo of our spirit follows us thru every valley of resonance and common experience, the soul as every man and woman's twin, beyond the hard proof of facts is the intuitive realm of deliverance, the intrinsic laws we didn't know, but always knew by other names and languages lost to the ages, buried cave symbols and drawings that describe the soul as something real with wings, who then doubts these timeless things?

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