Lost in Scale

We could be in the midst of things.
We could be vast or least of things,
Could lean to the least or deep end,

Or it could be that there’s no end,
That all scales mime all scales no end.
Our one clue hints we’ve got no clue—

The scales stretch out to large and small
As far as we can see or count
And shift at the edge of our scope.

In some lands we’ve dreamed it one snake.
We’ve drawn it in coils, in a ring,
Or called it a tree, roots and twigs,

Snake wrapped round roots, branch, or trunk, then.
We’ve rung the scales as a great chain.
We’ve dreamed them as spheres in more spheres.

But we don’t know. We know we search
And find more. We look in—there’s more.
We look out—there’s more. All scales doors.