We venture forth
into the inky black
of the unknown—
hand in hand,
into a darkness so deep
we can’t always
see one another’s faces.

But the touch—
that gentle certainty—
remains.

Your hand in mine,
mine in yours.
A silent promise
threaded through
tense fingers
and quiet breath.

We are not alone.

Even when
complete blackness
wraps the world
and sight abandons us,
we do not falter.

We walk in unison,
blinded yet
bound by something
stronger than light:
faith.

Faith
that even adrift,
we will always
drift
toward the same shore.

That our steps,
though unsure,
are attuned
to the same places—
to the quiet gravity
of home.

We will always
find our way.

Home
is where
we are
together.