I held the world in my arms today -
Warm, pulsing, beating,
Yet, still, as though placid, tranquil,
Real.

I found myself protected,
Nay, projected by ashen clouds aloft:
Hot like a mother's embrace,
Yet dark, as if the world
Bled to me these clouds of ash.

But do not think these clouds are fear -
Anything would hold more truth.
On emerald breaths
And azure words
They bore me skyward from my ground -
If any could call it ground -
And altitude unnamed was here;
These clouds had made it mine.

So on these silken clouds of ash,
I rise into the cosmic sea.
In a world upside-down,
I point up,
And know I am lost only to time.
And I point to the world.

I held the world in my arms today -
So cold.
Real.