Of being a smoker...lights ...and of being borne away...

Like 'Ballistics'
As Wilson started
With Empedocles...
Having seen a part of life small
So small as if held on fingertip
Or a tip
Of a needle
Or a grain of sand just,
Miniscule,
me by You arise
O my Lord,
in You me how oft just dies...
Your white
Transparent
Lights me
Smokie...
As if me drifts
Like Empedocles
Wrote golden
As if me is borne away...
Held by Your governing sway...
And like Wilson derived
me drives...
Through lanes
So cool slumbery
As if breeze from seas carries bless ethereal moist feathery
White,

Lights...
me smoke
Smokie
As if borne by You
Transparent
White...