O the world is invisible
Although we see
And words mirror
Its meaning
Without seeming
To be
The glare of our own faces
Stares back
Inevitably
So truth has no proof
Or refutable
Theories
Caught in the elusive allusions
While the real sways
Free of it all
As if one must surrender
To its presence
To create one's own
Essence
In the thing that resists
What will never speak
Except in one's
Words for it
Made from something
Unimaginable
That almost smiles
To be so thoroughly
Misunderstood
In the patterns that enthrall
Where everything we are
Cedes like
A discarded draw
The radiance remains
Of what was
Never there
It was a word responding
To a dream
That has unwound
Itself already
Where the ephemera still dance
As they are captured
For perpetuity
As the trace of what we lack
How far away we are
From nothingness
