I who have arrived in Heaven see myself
folded a billion times over before
points of light like the innumerable above suspended
within a limitless room, and with them my mind in lines
tries to find truth in imagined horizons, though there are
none firm up or down.
To turn perspective I am absent
as if there are no walls: this is not a room, finite
concept, but a collection of irrevocable distances,
extant horizons that cannot exist
outside of eyes too dim-definite to confine.
I am sure to logic there are systems
delineating this very heaven, even now as we
suspend between bounds, but to truth I am lost
in beauty unbound, divinity undivided,
the silent between sound.
I am a cypher among stars.