We accepted the promise of possibility as it opened revealing a labyrinth of space and blank canvas. We explored it and made it our own, acknowledging in so many ways that it was not what we wanted it to be and we were not what it needed. We shaped it as it moulded us, on painful journeys of transcendent glory. We worked up and round, through and past, until we found ourselves at last on the final stage, the doors beyond. We knew these doors, could trace every knot of wood  in their bulk, like we could recall the echo of every foot fall that brought us too that place. We knew it all and we knew them to be anointing portals of boundless hope. And yet the beyond.

What did we know of that.