Mysterious Ways

It's alright, it's alright, it's alright...
She moves in mysterious ways...

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Mysterious Ways

The day it swims, in its storm cloud dreams,
Altogether an aching mess, horizon falling,
Short of breath, the night hangs looming,
Swelling above, where the daylight’s broken,
Dancing, with the wandering flow of these ocean sheets,
In the ink black of night,
In the white memoriam shafts, lent in reflection,
In the subtler grey, that exists but as an afterthought:
To define,
To be defined,

I lie awake, in a dreamscape gale,

That forces down the chest, catches the consciousness
Gasping from these lips,
Parted, still trying to put a name to it,
That bends around the hand, where to touch is to hold,
Snaking between these fingers,
Parted, still trying to cup its infinity,
That floods about the eyes, blending the shades
Of unfocused sight, of belief by fear, of purest faith,
Parted, still trying to find the light.