I Dream of Purple Skies Revision 2 2026

I step into the shadow’s throat, but see the coming gleam,

The terrors of my former life dissolve into a dream.

The dark is just a breath delayed, now pierced by sudden fire,

In pulses of a deeper hope that lift my spirit higher.

I crawled through rot and heavy dust to reach this holy place,

But now I walk upright and free, clothed in saving grace.

No words can paint the threshold where the soul is broken down,

To be rebuilt in majesty beneath a sacred crown.

I look upon my changing hand, no longer made of clay,

As higher trust now guides me home and wipes the past away.


The phantom night begins to fade as flashes fill the air,

I do not grope or lose my way, for I am guided there.

The unknown has no teeth to bite, and faith is realized,

Within this changing corridor, the spirit is baptized.

A mortal lifetime spent in tears led to these final paces,

Leaving behind the heavy flesh for wide and luminous spaces.

The light reaches to hold me close, just as a mother would,

And turns me into something new, by earth misunderstood.


My will remains a quiet spark within my peaceful mind,

The pride of choosing for myself is gladly left behind.

I stand before a holy realm that demands a sacred awe,

I did not earn this paradise, nor satisfy its law.

Yet it is given as a gift, a grace that runs so deep,

It rewrites every part of me and wakes me from my sleep.

Divorced from pain and cleansed of shame, the old world falls remote,

Discarded like the winter dust upon a faded coat.


Where the tunnels end, the glow and I are woven into one,

We move in rhythm like the stars around a central sun.

I step into the endless view where living waters gleam,

To left and right the oceans sleep, untouched by storm or stream.

The sky is one triumphant crown of violet and of plum,

A holy mist of lavender where doubts are rendered dumb.

I see the angels at their toil, and travelers take their rest,

In cities built of foreign gems, the brightest and the best.

No barren desert chills the heart, no silence of the dead,

The animals walk in fearless peace where golden walkways tread.


My sight is turned to wonder now, both distant and profound,

I see the mountain and the flower that blooms upon the ground.

With panoramic eyes I watch the crystal angels play,

Hiding among the emerald trees to pass the holy day.

Great lions offer up their manes to children in their mirth,

And tigers listen to the tales of those of little worth.

Behind me—for my vision wraps around the entire space—

The light becomes a moving screen of majesty and grace.

The beasts of burden graze on wheat, their heads in reverence low,

I see it all at once, alive, within the sacred glow.


The previous world begins to fade, a fleeting night-born dream,

While this becomes reality beneath the purple gleam.

That earth was just a shadowed maze, a pass-through in the night,

But this perfection feels so old, my ancient birthright.

The violet skies are normal now, the light is all my breath,

I only see the distant past beyond the veil of death.

Protected by the burning glow, until I quite forget,

I move beyond the reach of time, where suns have never set.

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