Overarching through this storm;
At beginning, and end, and through are your pure-gold-promises to me.
Light flashes: illuminating shadows of what has past and what still yet could be,
Your voice roars; I wonder in the crack of melody.
You are torrential;
All around you strip away, strip bare the overgrown, the wasteland.
I am uprooted in your words.
I fear not.
And at the centre of this perfection; of it all: You.
And stillness comes.
And night sky comes.
You close around