I Am That I Am
I Am That I Am
The architecture of the flesh
may fail,
The skin unstitched, a frayed
and fragile veil,
Where silver staples close the
crimson seam,
And hold the borders of a
fractured dream.
We sit within the sterile, quiet
room,
Where shadows stretch and
heavy doubts loom,
Measuring life in sips of clear-lit
glass,
Waiting for the wilderness to
pass.
Yet in this crucible of ache and
bone,
A sovereign sanctuary is made
known.
I am the anchor in the shifting
deep,
The vigil kept while weary
angels sleep.
I am the breath that steadies
through the dark,
The sudden, iridescent, blinding
spark,
That turns a ruin to a holy space,
And paints a window on a
broken face.
No longer tethered to the grief
we hold,
Nor to the phantom weight of
old despair,
I am the vastness where the
storm dissolves,
The axis where the wheeling
world revolves.
Unmade by time, untouched by
mortal scar,
I am the light, the lantern, and
the star-
The timeless current flowing
deep within,
Where endings fade, and all true
things begin.
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