if language is power, then sometimes the hardest thing about being in an international community is feeling all alone.

where cultural differences lie, and thousands of tongues multiply, how can we bridge the gap that's between?

we've met, each on his shore. and though through your eyes i've seen another world, i realize that there are still world and worlds beyond that are locked behind you.

and i will never understand, i will never dig deep enough, probe and provoke because i am ill-equipped, having not the delicacies of another's language that would allow me the flexibility to weave in and out of those worlds

so conversation is kept to the non-serious, the inconsequential.

the heart of the matter is never reached.

we stand , each on our own island, the bridge built halfway. their hanging arms a lookout point, where we glimpse into each other's world, but we don't - we can't - cross over.

we stand, each on our own shore as the sun rises and then sets, casting light and shadows that forever grow and diminish in the space between.