a vision as I stare into the western sky clouds looming up like a great wall impenetrable marking the boundary between the land—what must be and the sea—what is possible

the horizon looks so close I can touch it as if the end of the world were so nigh the thousands and thousands of miles of windswept waves I dream incomprehending of those distant shores

the waves crash together and tear at the sand and the thousand-fold endless war between earth and sea rages and bit by bit the water that is rain that is tears that is blood that we lay dreaming in within our mothers’ wombs in millenia unceasing what must be always crumbles but what is possible is all but infinite

I dream of those islands lying untended upon the horizon like Fata Morgana like the sirens’ song drawing sailors to their doom and the arc of land and the mountains in the distance and like I bird I soar upon that twisted span that stark concrete line that vivisects the sky

in my heart is hope not of impossibilities not of dreaming of what can never be mine not of love unrequited not of the inevitable plummeting through the sky as death takes all things that take wing

in my heart burns hope that my little flame is brightness enough to lead me through the secret paths in the wilderness these twisted, braiding paths made of flashing light and silken cloud not the clouds of darkness, the brooding black storm but the light clouds of rain ended the storm weathered Noah’s Ark alighting upon land clouds illumined by the rising sun turning the sky brilliant gold like honey, like amber like warmth incarnate

These paths like ribbons burst from my heart these endless lines leading hither and thither not knowing where each colored braid might end they tug and they pull With courage she armed me I can set my sight upon that silver string that penetrates my very soul upon this silver string lies my path across the infinite waves alone as needs be