• Anna May


This is a love letter to the one who breathes in every beating moment and exhales seamlessly to expand into the next, gently to the rise and fall of my chest.

Whose blues and golds are never far to see, framed like art between the trees or patched in passing in the leaves. And yet I could reach out and up and out and up and never touch you.

You who holds us in the day and in the night, from life to death, through every breath, in your perfect cocoon, your perfect sphere that disappears and becomes shapeless in my fingertips.

The one who never sleeps but lays out the secrets of the universe to cradle us and map the way to new beginnings.

Ever changing, ever present, wherever, whenever, the possibility of forever.