i want to see it all

i've heard the face of god is too bright to look upon.

i wake up in the morning,
climb over her sleeping body,
get something to drink from the fridge.
everyone is still in bed.
there is the music
of breath and sheets moving.

i push open the glass door,
walk out on the balcony,
the scratch of sand and shock of cold
under my bare feet.

slide the door
shut behind me.
lean over the railing.

the ocean is blue, blue, blue
the bluest thing i've ever seen
blue like veins and velvet.
i can hear it, and the gulls
calling out, waking up.

back inside,
the music of breathing.

in front of me,
the pulse of waves against the sand.

i watch the sun rise like watercolors.
melon, salmon, sherbet, and...
you know, i have no name for this.

breath and birds and waves.

when babies are born, i bet that first light of life
hits their eyes like a two-ton sledgehammer.

i open my palms, tilt my head back, look up.
god, i am not afraid.
i am not afraid.