You live beneath the swelling
sky in a world without wind.
The firmament weakens
becomes too small
to cope with your immensity—
your singular existence.
Hands brush
against the tether:
this breakfast of blood,
your daily offering.
You rise
both God and worshiper,
alone in the unbearable light.
__________________
Minor edits based on Leanne's comments changed two verbs from present progressive to present tense.
sky in a world without wind.
The firmament weakens
becomes too small
to cope with your immensity—
your singular existence.
Hands brush
against the tether:
this breakfast of blood,
your daily offering.
You rise
both God and worshiper,
alone in the unbearable light.
__________________
Minor edits based on Leanne's comments changed two verbs from present progressive to present tense.
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson