Beyond the roofs, a bright pilgrim loosens its thread from the world below.
Another heart may call it lost; another, released—yet the blue inherits both stories.
- Loosed from a feast no witness can remember,
- Lifted beyond the reach of every green hand,
- Only the sky remains, becoming the sky's own sky.
Our gazes trade horizons for a breath; seeking your heaven, I find only you.
Nothing that leaves is promised a return, yet every vanished thing may arrive somewhere kind. Read what stands first, and name the traveler.