by Tehya Sky


As the kingdom grows,
as the cathedral erupts from
precious dynasties below,
as new bells blink into sight,
cleanse themselves to
seraphic glistening, to angelic
imprints of timeless hymns,
as the palace opens to show chests of
secret gems, bustling, aproned love maids
knitting scarves, laughing, quiet as the
moon, baking bread that tastes like clouds,
as the bells break into sound, as the
scriptures cascade and unfurl,
as its promises float upward with
the rising rising,

I look to you and see only the sun.