Azure.

The colour is Azure.

It is because His eyes talk.

Speak.

They spoke to me long ago.

His colour speaks upon my skin.

i saw a wave,

Azure.

So lovely it broke, ah bastions of blues, slippery, one hue to the next.

Only,

only i gasp at such translucence, breaking, and a crested blindness.

Could not turn away, had to watch another, in the breeze, sun, marvel.

It is as if a halo rose from the sea.

Had to feel.

Impossible the beauty, Azure, boundless.

A contagious mirror, an ordered light.

The quantum fury of Infinity.

John Ruskin wrote about the Truth of the Sky, 1843, the sky is the part of creation in which nature has done more for the sake of pleasing man.

Yes,

this blue - the ever changing religion.

His words i keep tucked away in my heart for i can not live if not in this

Beseech.

They flower, never forgotten, as i breathe Azure.

i have

become,

Azure.

His sky, touches the horizon from where the waves erupt, cuddle, coddle, sing, ooze and take on form and sound.

Or were form and sound swept away,

fallen to a Dynasty without time.

Colour.

Azure.

Bless and rest and lay upon Thee.

Stay to soothe and help me see.

Bring me to the mountain top, ah, the gaze there too, the sky of blue, clear and vacant, only God and the wind.

The nude bluff.

To the top of Mount Athos i go, Azure to follow -- find my way.

Unprotected and alone,

up this dried, craggy and stoned path, only passable by donkey's back -- His kindness, fortitude and measure.

Our lives like the quest to the mountain top.

Your Summit, my Summit.

Cleansed we are by climbing up.

To Azure.

To Azure.

It breaks on me, it breaks on Thee.

Suffocated but floating, what can it be but Azure, Azure.

The bosom of lapis lazuli, a concert of grace.

A cry not begotten, an enchantment unfounded,

Azure i rise to Thee.

i rise to Thee.