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angelita
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Silence.
So absolute, so perfect.
Almost as though it is my breath and motion that would rouse the dawn.
The calm encloses you and I. Ever-languid hours pass by.
Then it comes.
The breeze, so liltingly subtle that the sigh of the trees is but a ghost to me.
And there I find
A sound – dagger-sharp and pure – which pierces near the very fabric of the Quiet.
[[I am beautiful, I am your saviour.]]
Caught in rapture, lost in song.
Filling every empty soulless shell
With the haunting cry,
The knell
Of fragile Night.
[[Hear me. See me.]]
Shards of light are my tonic, dappled glimmers
Falling
Falling
Fallen.
Dusk inverted in a thousand droplets; echoes of sunset.
No more than a glimpse of salvation,
An ephemeral suggestion.
What are we, then?
Dwarfed be the magnificence of this searing star, what is left but
Empty Space and
Points of Light.
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040123
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