One feels outside of time and place.
One paces, restless interface
rotation, infills model's make,
and blazes eagerly awake
in one's interiors or face
for teeming, eery beauty's sake.
One thinks outside of you and me
as angels do, the truly free,
and sees or understands the light
whereby we see with inmost height
how in and out may so agree
as to light up our sinful night.
One teaches outside items, in
their two-plus items set within,
like two points make a line, like thought,
like camera angles on what ought
to be the shunning of our sin
or breaking chains whereby we're caught;
like a synaptic discharge. Let's
so optimize their sight of sets,
of items in those sets, that their
own thought arises, there to stare,
as shaped like thought as teaching gets.
Thought multiplies with room to spare!
