There's healing as the water turns to ink
And slow twilight overcomes the contours
Of the mind.
The emotion that remains
Has served the brain slyly, holding a place,
In its wideness, for spirit.
It takes you,
As you sit with it, up etherous levels.
Like the clouds, taking on ascending colors,
Take their turns at expressing how
God fills up every single moment
No matter how profane that it may seem.
It's just protection.
There is always penetrating darkness with the light.
