Sailing On Heaven's Boat

A thread of horizon stretches in the light, a thin boundary dividing air from water, the instant from eternity. There, a boat emerges, fragile craft laid upon the turquoise surface. It moves gently, gliding as if weightless, brushing the mirror of the elements. Around it, colors unfurl in broad orange waves, scattering the blue with solar bursts. Reflections spread and respond, as though the sky itself had opened its gates to this passage. Each trace becomes an echo, each echo turns into breath, and matter seems to vibrate with a single respiration. All floats, all wavers, all becomes a threshold between two worlds. Thus the boat is no longer mere vessel—it becomes a prayer offered to the sky. Yet does this prayer carry us toward a harbor, or does it invite us to dwell in the endlessness of the in-between?