Weaving

The world is woven in such different ways
Struts the vertical, the flat below
Oh God who weaves me shall by me be praised

Oh, shall the mystic reach be what she craves
When all the strings release and she falls low
The world is woven in its different ways

Timed by ritual Lady Lazarus rose
And all the eyes that gazed were burning slow
Yes, God who weaves me shall by me be praised

There is a hollow only Ariel knows
As horse and rider as one being flow
The world is sensed in wholly different ways

The body ,home of mind, will run astray
Oh, what seams of evidence forego
Fallen God who unacknowledged knows

Beneath the sea of green the undertow,
Spirits sidle deep like melting snow
The world is woven in such different ways
That God who weaves me shall by me be praised