To Didyma we traveled, the oracle to meet,
From our depths an offering, in return, a few words.
"Potential, Probability - and Never."
With these sacred straws, a furtive glance to the future.
Words - like shards from a broken urn,
'Potential', 'Probability' and 'never'.....could mean anything.
At Calvary, a body also shattered; Potential lost.
From the depths, crystal clear words,
A certain promise of life.
"I will not leave you, to the end of time,
A few words looking into the future.
His, broken first,
The gift, peace.
All we hold.....and it is enough.
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