He became infant prescience,
He had to go so far ahead of me,
A strange and whispering comfort that brings,
One who was one with me in our growing,
Knew (or still knows) the bird that never sings.

Many times I had wondered, when in my loneliness,
If it could be that he still exists somewhere,
Only a question without perpendicular relief,
But perhaps it is possible that he still laughs,
Because he still resides in my question and belief.

I feel my closing drawing closer,
I feel it will be soon that I could meet him in my dreams,
So separate for so long, and our reunion means ceasing,
Our hearts once played their percussion together, and when mine stops we can meet in new grieving.

It is but one dilation of a sacred pupil, One blink of an eternal eye,
One moment made almost final,
Close to the eye's event horizon,
One rolling sphere of goodbye.

Inchoate truth,
No, you are not yet real,
How quiet you are inside,
As though I'm seeing but not hearing a family through a window.
Oh, my very own inchoate truth,
It would not do to love you,
It is not yet love that will see your arrival into the world out there.

Here I am, awake, alive and in strength,
A strength that has encased itself around and still embracing,
A new cord, granted to live and suffocate,
Mine from the very moment her poisonous cord was cut,
Its envelopment has a weight that many broken hearts can't bear,
And if you can see that new cord, I can tell you, I'm not there.

Oh the costly consequences of her child's protection,
What terrors this thin film has endured and then veiled,
Such a charlatan's tongue has her actress when she's speaking,
Be kind to her if you believe you can, a cataclysm, a tragedy, from her new cord is leaking.

The thunder is shameless in its powerful percussion,
And brave is the morning with its barefaced horizon,
So surely then, one new cord can be severed and forever broken?
One hushed voice finally heard, what gilded words could then be spoken?

I know where I belong, perhaps we all belong there, in the light-hearted dwelling of creative arousal,
In that airy perception of beauty around us,
There is residence there for all,
Only waiting to be taken up,
A room in the kingdom of heaven.

I'm glad that I am here in the depths of this hurt,
I am reminded of my life, my very own life,
This weight that is heartache that I currently bear, I'm grateful to it and the changes it is making,
My face looks ever so different in this mirror, in this sorrow new strength, in these tears an elixir.

Call for the aid of divinity,
Call upon the strength of my mother's chains,
Call to the resonance felt within my soul,
When my brother would whistle a tune of transcendence just outside my window.

Employ the courage of my calluses,
They were formed in the darkest of nights,
Ask for an ally in my altered form,
She's had to do this before, many times, never been a stranger to Indigo.