rendered

When the world comes clear,

changeless in its changing,

and everywhere revealed,

 

this sun might be lighting

a rendered wall inscribed

by winter tree's shadow;

 

when the world comes clear

light might seem to shift

to show a morning free of any other time;

 

when the world comes clear

something pulling tight within

your mind might fall away

 

to leave a formless space,

a fathomless space in which

eternal life cannot be granted

 

or even offered,

but only recognised, so simply,

as what you are.

---Andrew Colliver

 

 

Done