To be in between You are not where you Were and not where you will be, but Now in the Dark. The darkness of the In between. Expectations slain Buried hope now underground. Hopes are gone The consolation of friends. Only memories of what was And what could have been. Could it be that in our Sorrow That we should persist as we began? Unknowing of what we can't see is tomorrow A new beginning. The difficulty of new is We don't know when it will start. In between, we wait with Our hopes in the ground. Our hopes are different now Informed by life. Than his friends were long ago. But, we still live in so Many Saturdays. So much of life is Saturday. Crucified dreams. And seemingly endless sorrows for What could have been. What could have been was Nothing Compared to what was coming. The eruption of hope to life The hope that now fills our lives even on Saturdays.