Nothing presses in or echoes in darkness.
Voices cannot carry, fingers cannot touch,
light does not exist.
No Beginning and No End knew completion:
Full absence could not change.
Nothing was not enough. So there was More.
Light spat into existence, darkness bleeding away
into times set and guarded, hemmed by the beauty
of coming and going. More was perfection,
tears in colors that had to be seen.
Still it was not enough. So there was More.
Stumbling over perfection until it shattered
tears running until the colors washed and tumbled,
the weight of glory extravagant in destruction.
Light fragmented the dark, stars roared with massive strength
and the contrast held the meaning, stunning in its struggle.
Still it was not enough.
Voices echoed in the dark because the light was moving.
Eternity pushed into Time and forever held around it.
Perfection healed in love poured out;
Newness born in blood.
Hemmed by the beauty of the first touch of dawn,
Balance holds by the contrast;
by the sigh of the last breath of evening
Change enables sight.
Brokenness: the only fragment adding to Perfection;
Struggling: the greatest glory seen in the Reflection.
We see the colors in the tears,
the blood poured out in love,
and look outside the sky