FREED VERSE

An Ode to STEM

Its coarse rope burns soft against my skin,
fibrous silk wove taut and thin.
A cushion saving me from a daunting fall, 
the righteous path upon which dote all. 
Below, a cavern, dark and endless,
above, the stars, their light stupendous; 
constellations more intricate than my safety net's webbing,
the rough comfort I use to keep from ascending.