The world within its frame
By what it includes
By what it excludes
By the format of its frame
By the point of view
By the tones it renders
By the subject it chooses
A stupa grand
And towering
Each tile placed
By hands of men
I remind myself
There are always options
Most drawn to center
Where all of us are one
But many lost in darkness
To drift beyond the crest
I may think of friends
Who are far away
But always in my orbit
Always there
Even if not visible
In my daylight skies
But I try to live every day
As if it were a tread
On the staircase
Which would take me there
All I need
Is to open my eyes
Remembering
That by “eyes”
I mean heart
In time
With practice
They become
The light