Jagged Edge
        undiscernable
        molecular thickness
shimmering with quantum uncertainty

Iridiscent petals,
scintillating drops of
sunlight pouring down
bluesky

coruscating
incandescing

ramifying paths: arborization
dividing lines: partitions

trimers, triplets, triremes, trust
                                         truth

sextiles, sextants
quadrants, questions,

calumny, catastrophe

radiance TRUST/TRUTH   believing
There is hope…
Out of darkness, comes a great light

        [Ēarendel][1]. bright star burning
scattering beams of light
to the forsaken lands

[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aurvandil “Aurvandil • Wikipedia”

    (A memory of the Desert,
barren, haunting, like a fever dream
flowing past at 80 mph
    the Interstate, this concrete ribbon of gray
    slicing through the valleys + canyons,
the mountain passes

    facing homeward, and brilliance of the setting sun
coruscating, igniting the deepening, darkening sky

  rivers crossed, bridged, bought
what hath God wrought
    this dizzying spinning game, swirling, spiralling

(This interspace, this interstice, this midpoint, a pause, a hiatus.)

Continuous, contiguous, coterminus, extinguished.

There was a reason, there was no reason
this indecision, pointless bouncing off each other…

      (I dreamt → one night
          Orion diving head first into the sea
how long did I hope? how long did I dream?
Dreams dashed + shattered,

      Leaving me STILL (I had hoped ever to be STILL)
and sifting through the shards of my heart
like sparkling jewels—casting each one away

      They were still unmapped, unreached, unexplained,
this surplus space to be filled
      with what? with joy, with triumph

With love.)

Cast away, like crimson dust, let the wind come what may

    My heart is full, these memories, these ghosts of dreams
This vapor is all I have that is real
    The rest of this world, this galaxy recedes
  unreachable. lost. Red-shifting into the Long Dark

    Only their light comes back to me
    reflecting what might have
      (STILL)
Nothing save the memory of the reflection of Dust

    My soul Iii|iiI is there such a thing?

Would admission make my pain, my torture
  irrevocable?

Is apostasy the only thing keeping me going.
this dearly bought illusion that if
  Thy Will is Not Done,
    then What I am is not this torn + gutted silence

    not this vacuous thing, held together by dint of
        Will alone.

I am all that is not, and nothing less
                              and nothing more

The games go on, and the wise look elsewhere

  AND I ASK MYSELF
    is this salvageable?  From the utter wreck
this blasted ruin? This Obliteration. This putrefaction.

  This hellish remnant of all things gone astray
    not only did I miss my mark
I was aiming at hallucinations anyway.

    (The shattered city of Gondolin,
    now swept beneath the waves.
        Not even Dust remembers)

This idea,   this flickering flame, this scattered light

    WHAT LIVES MUST DIE
    WHAT DIES MUST LIVE

      Even this silence is not eternal
      The Darkness not infinite

    OUT OF CHAOS COMES ORDER
    OUT OF ORDER COMES CHAOS
        Time and Space are ALL THERE IS
    and Light, O Blessed Light….

Endure, O ye who are patient
Dear witness, the fallen, the arisen
from the ashes come again these growing things
from the barren desert if comes once again life

The seas will ebb, the seas will flow
The tide shall fall, the tide shall rise

      In the silence, the roar of Creation
      In the darkness, this brilliant light
      In the Stillness, endless motion

      In my emptiness, I am full
      Not knowing what comes next
        I am ready.

(I lost the melody… but the words echo…
this unquenchable sussuration
like the blood flowing through my veins.)