before the curve of artificial sky
the globe rose like the arm of God
casting specks of light into the dark
around us on the walls
calling forth creation in a box
like the universe inside our dreams,
sunlight’s flicker on a stream,
writers looking at the page,
life within the marks they made,
infinity of souls like dots and lines,
the space between us all,
raindrops on a window stealing light
to slide along their arc and
cut their own small path
through the all-engulfing night