BLUE

I love giving my hands to the sky. I don't do it often.
but in Seattle, some days deserve it.

The morning that has been christened by the sun fills your nose with existence.
Walk and walk to where the leaves end, to the blue

The lake lay blue below the hill,
O'er it, as I looked, there flew
Across the waters, cold and still,
A bird whose wings were palest blue.
The sky above was blue at last,
The sky beneath me blue in blue,
A moment, ere the bird had passed,
It caught his image as he flew.

open up your neck today.
surrender.

this is perhaps what it feels like to be in a church worship service?