Intentions of the Morning

Kathryn Chun

I woke one morning
To find myself standing on the tip of God’s finger

High in the heavens, with a rush of wind and sun
Temperatures not temperatures, but waves of blue and chill
Grand and expansive
And, I, nothing at all

As I leaned forward, barely one degree past ninety
Past the shadow of my cheek and the edge of His finger
There I saw Eternity

Vast clouds, seamlessly sewn together
Like thick solid whispers,
White oceans that carried the two of us

And if I jumped, would I hit them?
These clouds that offered impact-an offer that I wanted
Would I feel the universe slam into me and undo me?
I should have known it all
And it all would have been worth it

Yet, there I was, still standing, above the palpitating veins breathing white
Still on that finger
Not bothering to turn to find the arm, to find the face.