Highlights in the high room,
a foyer by some, but just tall by me.
Single tracks stream through
silken dust galaxies;
they swirl into these rains,
new rains beyond, but just enough
out upon this new green meadow,
this into, this-as, this being there,
it is the spirit of Love, Beloved,
here leaving new dark corridors,
seamless tunnel rising, driving,
a long passage without sides
which we may reach into, yes,
yet feeling slow warmth,
it’s only air.