The Design of the Void

In a corner where the eye does not rest,
among the dusty silences of the day,
a light and composed architecture
extends its empire, without border.
Not a silk fabric, but fiber of waiting,
a network of air, almost invisible.

Every knot a calculation, every thread a destiny,
patience woven into the patient shadow.
It seeks not sight, it does not crave the morning,
only the vibration, the present moment.
A geometer without compass or square,
draws hunger with a sublime gesture.

Suspended between nothingness and a breath of wind,
it challenges the dust, the change of light.
It is a silent lesson of every moment,
that form and substance from the void arise.
An imperceptible, ancient knowledge,
in the heart of a world that refuses to see.