pause.

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wind-cuts on my cheeks
tell tales
of the speed in which i live
breath
but a drug that i inhale
for all the things
wanting yet to be achieved

of the invisible do i seek
no certainty
no end to the lack i perceive
like mortal cravings
for immortal feed
i hunger

night stirs silent sounds of peace
and when all is said
all done for the day
what was lost in strained pursuit
is found again in simple truth

I concede

worth more than gold
in dwellings thieves cannot behold
that deeply satisfies my soul
the I Am stands

He was
and is
and will be so

…

breathe.

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