wings

alas, we are asked to sit silently, as His wings envelop our senses -
they are like fabric, a tight weave of security, of hope, of eternity, smooth upon our skin, dancing like silk as the heavens exhale upon its surface; hear a mimic of a mighty thunderstorm with the decibles of white linen in the breeze. the aroma of purity intoxicates. and still we sit here silently.
for we cannot, in anxiety, arise from invisible ashes. let us rest here in this cocoon, this patience, waiting for a second glory...





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i can never seem to finish a thought.

2:20 AM