The Reality of which we are made

The Reality of which we are made
 
God alone is real (said my Lord).
Which means . . . we are not.
 
Wrinkles in the holy fabric are we;
waves upon the sea; clouds upon the ether.
 
We are the wind-shape of the dunes,
a burl in the bark; a hitch in the stream;
 
a speck of dust on the mirrored glass. 
How holy!  How precious and precise are we!  

Like the Reality
of which we are made.
 
O child of God, what is the worth of that
          which comes and goes?
Only its connection to the Everlasting.