Beautiful Beautiful Irony.
How do I breathe in this new airy familiar landscape?
What weathered worlds are collapsing?
What is still being contained and commended?
Where are we going... And...
What will be left behind?
I breathe, reassured in worlds demised,
left assured of the worlds retained,
bless-ed love remains.
Steady, steps at a time, calling shots
Divine willing we go.
Watch the show,
create... in truth.