What shall we do my darling, when trial grows more, and more, when the dim, lone light expires, and it's dark, so very dark, and we wander, and know not where, and cannot get out of the forest - whose is the hand to help us, and to lead, and forever guide us? ... Where do you think I've strayed and from what new errand returned. I have come from to and fro, and walking up and down the same place that Satan hailed from when God asked where he'd been.
Emily DickinsonFaithโis the Pierless Bridge Supporting what We see Unto the Scene that We do notโ Too slender for the eye It bears the Soul as bold As it were rocked in Steel With Arms of Steel at either sideโ It joinsโbehind the Veil To what, could We presume The Bridge would cease to be To Our far, vacillating Feet A first Necessity.
Emily Dickinson