Not piercing, nor shuddering, but simply all is cold.

For life is about to, it seems, unfold

Before my eyes

And throughout the skies...

In the defined blur.

The generous blanketing of this space

That was begotten by the face

Of a man presently at home by the fire,

And all I do is walk and stalk…

Through the defined blur.

Gazing, perhaps searching, expeditiously for you,

Along the white-lines of the pew

Made up by the glory of this street,

Stupefied by the religious persistence…

Of the defined blur.

My vision is fogged, but ever so clear,

My limbs are numb, but not from fear.

For, the time, though late, is no stake

To pause my stroll towards you and for you…

Within the defined blur.

My heart doth stir.

The wind doth whir

Through the limbs of the trees

And through the limbs of me.

But it sustains this beautiful white cloud

Encompassing everyone, all to be wowed,

Of the ever-presence…

Of you and me,

As I strut on through the blur,

Forever and always towards thee.