Like a whip of molten metal
red hot as it whips
solidifies to steel when it cracks
sends sparks into the black
melts red-hot again
light flickers off the end
as it cracks again like a scorpion's tail
He cracks it again
searching a crevice for meaning
and, finding nothing, whips it back
leaving another wink of light
followed by the search of another crevice
searching, searching
Scrutiny: high and low
and high once more
the whips spiral up in an oscillation
of progressing note couplets
Stark fear of an existence without meaning
sending brighter sparks
in hopes of finding the way
He cries more sparks
as the molten whip cracks
and finds yet another empty hole
on the wall behind the black veil
Meaning hides
smaller than a needle
in a void larger than a stack of hay
winking back
at the steel whip
He knows its there
begging to be found.
