53

The titillating sound of water

leaking from the bathroom sink;

gracefully interweaving

with Jonsi's angelic being, with

Sigur Ros' majestic trimming.

* * *

I remember walking into a sea of diversity;

strangers but lovers all along.

I remember drowning into a palette of ethereal tunes;

dreams marrying reality, song by song.

I remember wishing for that familiar warmth

to covet the solitariness in me,

for a rye to stand there beside me

as I let the night consumed me whole.

Smothered in love. Smothered in grace.

How could I ever be more thankful

when the sky was at its most generous

and pleasing, showering bliss onto

each hungry souls;

for each bead drew us closer,

each bead brought us together.

How could I ever be more thankful

towards the universe, for

everything fell into place.

From the scent of wholeness at this shallow end,

to everything beyond description,

laying at the bottom of infinite depth.

Such beauty.

I thanked Nox and Venus,

and the Icelandic pearls from heaven,

I thanked every atoms and fragments

blending harmoniously for the anthem,

for I was loved.

I am loved.

Sigur Ros' Hoppipolla on spiel.