still life

I sit and wait quietly, the sky a violent angry purple
in the distance the clouds are stacked,
resembling snow incrusted mountains
My coffee grows cold as I let it fade from the here and now.
The heat from the cheap paper cup is stolen from by my hands
I quietly sit and wait, as the sky’s anger softens minutely
sounds are grasped and swept away by the early spirit of the day
the sound of breath escaping lungs roars in my ears
filling the comfortable void, as I expand to fill the open space
never do I reach my limits I reach infinitely
I wait and sit quietly, as the last of the violence drains from the heavens
the mountains have faded from view and warmth seeps towards me
edging over the horizon seeking me with urgency of purpose
I slowly recede into my mortal borders, my cooling coffee remembered
I stir quietly no longer waiting, I drain the paper cup of it last offerings
and move into the quickening day.