One breath to move above the wind still,

your thoughts,

like clasped together hands,

that, in their reach to fathom prayer,

have met each other in embrace,

and ask your voice to call for surrender

of moving hopes above the line,

which closed with blanks that then defined it,

above the limits that you’d not transgress.

Then close your eyes to the imagined,

that blinds with light reflected back

into an abyss of forgiveness,

which you have not once sought to be thus tracked,

to painted dreamscapes rising high above the skyline,

inverted to the promises within,

reaching the end of the beginning,

and turning moment after moment into presence still.

(inspired by the sounds of ‘Extrema’, by Sebastian Plano)