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