[Poem] - In Clearing

Not in the clear,
But clearing in.
Not clearing out,
not in, but within.

They're not placed or poised,
but scattered in disguise as matter.

'This then this' and wonders
draping from the high ceiling of the sky,
like trails of embroidery thread.
Seamless and slight, yet numerous in sight.

Following the maze of the floor made by bricks
of organic matter.
But should I lift this brick, and place
                                     one
                                          upon
                                               another
to reach that glowing tether?
no wait
for the Master knows the threads apart,
and that glowing tether...
may not be luminous at heart.

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