Inscrutable Border

At the boundary of heaven and hell, infiltration goes on in both directions all the time, though the barrier is so well-policed that the strongest fists can't even make a dent, an army of howling sinners can't budge it an inch. Walking down College Avenue in the drizzling rain just now after the dance class, I realized I'd slipped into a realm of quiet joy, yet I recall the suffocating curtain I wore for self-protection at last night's gathering and couldn't take off. I don't remember seeing any gate to mark a passage between metaphysical opposites, not even a sign. Even extremes — So close, so close, they almost overlap. I