Metamorphoses

metamorphosis -you see roots of light, filaments: it's a miracle speeding ponderously, splendorously where a congregation of stars transfigure into a winged-galaxy and spiral-Angels glitter in your eyes -- dancing between every wondrous thing in time and space matters, orbiting infinitely in where every round thing begins -- first-light at the edge of the fatal-skin you're in rises in longing swells, the measure of your heart; a nebulae of mystery, the numinous light of peregrinated stories -- from stars we come to stars we shall return, this ancient ache of longing urging us to burn, to shine on 'n on from inside out, where illumination is a fire without any doubt I'm not worried, now, she is beautiful no need to hurry, now, she never dies in infinite nights, she is carried far and away ...