Not only circumference

but an orb

of circumstantial evidence.

What keeps us from flinging

into thin air, breathless

to the pin drop darkness?

Every spinning and expanding

island riding on predestination.

What keeps us from bringing

a thin air of presumption?

What great expanse of reason

finds its edge, its end?

Thought rides tides to the Temple.

And Jesus writes in the dirt with his finger.

John 8:1-12John 1:5