The Tent

I’m seeking shelter in the tent
Woven from hanks of chaos
That tours the heaven now

Bathed in its sheen 
The cloth ripples my cuts
Enfolding me in solace
Of blurred balance and space
Until my legs nudge the corners.

In the darkness devoid of shadows 
To haunt me with lies and truths
I float between them in symphonies
Strung with memories out of tune
Until I fall and feel the tangle of grass
Matting the ground in mud and dirt.

Bathed in its sheen
My blade scars the cloth
Bleeding light and this epiphany-
The storm outside refuses to shake
My abode more than the one inside.

I’m seeking shelter in the tent
Woven from hanks of chaos
That never left me for heaven