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Bridging Between: Session 2

Bryan and I are thrilled to have launched our second session of Bridging Between yesterday. We're still working out the schedule; stay tuned to the website for details. For the moment, however, we would like to commemorate the beginning of the second session by sharing a poem written by one of last year's participants:

I rose with the sun

Fell to sleep long after the moon had risen

Each day the same, yet different

The wind cutting through my mask and lenses

Eyes darting for every movement


My skull the perfect target, profiled against the rising sun

Resigned to my death, Joyful

With each morning breath

Calm pervading the spaces between each


Knowing that every moment might be my last

No power over our own lives

None over our deaths

Waiting, just waiting

We controlled ourselves

Our fear

Our pain

Our emptiness

That grand abyss which stared back at us each night

As we closed our eyes for the last time.

That emptiness, filling it with trivial pleasures and small delights.

My life is my own now

Chained in a grey box


By the empty-headed

By the empty-minded

By silent songs

of sweetly singing sirens,

sounding in my ears of a time

When death held me in its embrace


Weeping for that time of peace and


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