Draw me from Your archetype,
a sailboat graced by infinity's root to
beckon rest to mused thoughts and
ancient promises grown on the wind.
Grace Your breath upon swollen dreams,
I am replete with feathered knowings,
readied by time's scythe of finality to
return to the molder of all that becomes me.
Entice me, to release sleepy owls pressed unjust,
to fall upwards as reversed rain unto Your golden reign.
Fill my veins with paintings serene,
carve from me a cloud of triumph to freeze false offerings.
Carry me in Your hem to re-generate time unspent,
teach me the forgotten ways of being born again.