Monday, January 20, 2025

The Uncharted

The boundaries of heaven may be
Less wide than night's immensity, 
Less high than snowy peak or spire.
A lamplight pane, a kindled fire,
A room, an acre, or a mile,
Or the brief space it takes a smile
To cross the threshold of a heart-
These no cartographer may chart,
Or instrument have power to give
The latitudes by which we live.
-Rachel Field

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