The Lake Beyond

There is a lake in the world beyond,
where all the tears lie still, unshed—
the ones that should have touched the earth,
yet stayed unwept instead.

There is a vale in the world beyond,
where unheard laughter softly strays—
the mirth that should have filled our lips,
but faded into haze.

There stands a house in the world beyond,
where thoughts like children dream and play—
the ones we ought to have embraced,
but lost along the way.

And flowers bloom in the world beyond,
woven from love we left unshown—
the gifts we should have freely given,
but left to die alone.

And when we step beyond this world,
what once was dark will shine so bright—
for all awaits us, safe and whole,
that here was lost to night.

—Michael Ende (1929–1995)