We are surrounded
by a cathedral
of stained glass
always changing colors
outside, who are we?
to shatter the window
is to invite storms

cold and smooth the glass
my fingerprints linger long after
reflected in other panes
as ancient heavy wooden doorways
beckon, other rooms others fear
but not I
I hear footsteps above, dust drifting down
seeming incorporeal but tangible
weightless it enters my soul, a cloud
formed from Light through the windows

so I push aside the heavy bar
rusty from disuse
slip into another room
and stumble at first up a dark stairway
slowly learning the passage, my eyes still half open
though I wish to open them wide
doors wait in ceilings, walls, floors, some in midair
some locked, some transparent, some invisible,
some open, some incorporeal,
to open in other ways and directions
Another room, what can it hold?
and infinite more after it