Adventurers in the Alone

And when she died the poetry

Poured forth as from a jar of grief.

And though I dwelt in misery

Never did I shun belief

That all these trials are but a door

That opens on a world to be

And all the memories we store

Are locks for which we have no key.

But God can enter as a thief

And steal the unsuspecting heart

To seat within the body's core

A flame so bright we cannot part

The light we are, the light we bore

When soul took on this flesh and bone

Descending down a sun-lit sea,

Adventurers in the Alone.