Glory

It's unendingness soothes me.
To look out to the horizon, where the water kisses the sky, understanding that in no way is it an ending; it's just as far as my weak and limited eyes can see. There is something of glory in knowing that I can't take it all in. I can't fit it inside parameters. I can't make it small enough to understand. There is such beauty in the vastness.

Not much can compare to looking out into infinity. I want to cry at my smallness; laugh at its absurd bigness; I want to run headlong into it and get utterly, utterly lost in its rightness. This is what heaven feels like.

I often wonder if I would feel the same were I out far enough to lose sight of land. Would the loss of my grounding panic me? Would my breath hitch, my heart stutter at the uncertainty? (Yet how can I fear heaven? The unknown is frightening, but the result divine.)

Another part of me though, a greater part, longs for just that. To be completely alone in the swell of the sea, with only expanse, above and below, for company.