
There is a shade of blue so fine
it lurches my sight
from gradient free fall
sending it forward
among clouds so still
they could be continents on a map
disappeared tomorrow.
As the earth is to a God
and as I am not.
In spite all the trying of time
that dusty spirituality still stirs up
a shade of blue so thin and fine.
A door that opens each eternity
in every moment passing,
creation breathing -
dum spiro spero.
As I am to a God and as God is not
perhaps eternity marvels
at a thing so good and small
as breathing in and out.
Perhaps it watches through
a shade of blue
so thin and fine and good
to pause before the exhalation
at rapture made of beauty held
by wasting flesh so good and frail.
Forever would be long to live
without the breath of hope.




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