There’s chaos in the shimmering heat,
All jives and jostles, structures melt and
Order boils until absence is complete,
Of pattern in the scorching shifting sands.
While bitter, on the other side, jutting
Great crystal castles. Lattice works of ice.
Their shear edges almost touching, cutting
Cleaving space apart, to each a separate slice.
It’s in between that pattern start to dance,
merging melting bodies, all together.
Hypnotic orchestras dictate their trance.
Connected through some esoteric aether.
These littles worlds found only at the borders
create their own unique and gentle orders