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Forgive me my demand to know
My desire to reach the infinite.
I have asked and implored,
Begged and beseeched
In my own way,
Thrust my sentience into the ice-blue
Past the spangles of the stars
And the eternal of the darkness,
Straining to hear the anthems
To find something… more.

How grandiose I must seem,
As if I might know more
Than the rose’s sweet fragrance,
The bloom of a cherry blossom,
Or the glissando of the brook.
Yet I still hoist my petition,
Seeking the answer to both reason and truth.

I ask simply for a balm
For I am a captive of my soul’s decent.
I confess I do not pray for succor
Only consecration,
Nothing the singing wind
Could not achieve on its own.