Chochma

Upstairs for a moment, enough
To dust off the automaton
Layered in rust

Flood the cluttered attic with light
Time again to walk downstairs
But don’t trip when trying to catch

That pulsing essence beating from heaven

Cosmic rungs it soared in descent
Flashing light unearthed for us
Came not from you, earthen dust

There is a candle setting fire to forests
That stretch to space from open palms
Now watch them timber, branches rain
Down from the stars

Recede back into those psalms
Until grass sings
And chambers open
Who has the ancient keys?
The lighthouse keeper on his watch

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