ah, but a man’s grasp should exceed his grasp or, what is heaven for?

I’m reaching beyond my own human grasp. I am seeking to go further than I can see with my own eyes and in my own mind. I can touch it…I can feel it…something lurking just outside the crescent of my vision, brushing the tips of my fingers as I stretch to touch beyond my line of sight. I can even see the outline of it; like a shadow flitting around the corner of my eye, a barely-discernable form waiting to take shape.
I want to hold it. I want to extend my fingers that extra length, these last few cenitmeters, and wrap them around the forming mass to give it shape and function. I want to build into it a life and purpose and meaning so as to bring about definition and vibrancy.
As it is right now I can hear the breath of it; so heavy-tentatively arching toward the enfolding of my outstretched grasp. With timid determination, creeping closer, and closer still-to come completely into the light and realize the fullness of potential in being made real in the world through my fingertips.
It is ready to be captured. It is ready to spill into my outstretched palm and give way to the creative destiny for which it was born. Not only ready but unable to hold back; pulsating with anticipation and leaning, leaning all the way over the precipice of fear and doubt and apprehension and self doubt to extinquish all that-flow over those resistant powers and crash through their invisible barrier-come into the clarity, brightness and assurance of a dream realized and made manifest through the righteous power of following ones willed path. in love trish.