Dispatch #135

a prayer and a lune

Here in the visible world, to wait for You, baffled and in awe that I, a shattered creature, might see. Days when the shame overtakes my capacity to breathe deeply, I remember Your gaze, how it doesn’t waver, and I contemplate Your face. I contemplate not to comprehend, but to blind my ego before Your blinding incomprehensibility. In that moment, I am free. I breathe in the mystery.


a broken line of 
geese rowing 
silently through snow