I was born
I am born
Every day
Light casts me
Into and out of
Fire.
I will expire.
But not today.
My life a painting
Pure, white, moving, beautiful.
There, a red streak
My own blood piercing the brightest place.
Sed ecce!
Is it not surrounded by brighter places?
Touch my hand
and know me.
A little drop of paint
Falls onto the page.
Blue tears and red pain
Making purple flowers in a new garden.
Thank you for the bouquet,
And the page,
And the pain… t.