Maybe it could be safe

to fade off into the night

with gratitude for light.

 

Perhaps deforming identity

might belong to adventure,

a conciliating pilgrimage

of floating light

drawing us toward each Other’s

original intent.

 

Why couldn’t decay function salvifically,

absorbent healing hidden within ego’s hubris memories,

uncovering carnation’s form

revealing unmitigated synergy

as boundless light’s economy of grace.

 

Light composting fuel’s individuating form,

to sustain ego’s burned out wick,

we pass through light’s regeneration,

flying graceful paths not yet taken.