A billion eyes shoot their lustrous light at the matter,
Piercing the hearts of more billions as the shrewd rays of sight passes straight through,
Sometimes transparent, otherwise opaque.
The infinite refractions that fall on the minds, the shades gaining their judgement,
Sometimes black, otherwise white.
However parallel the path is, beyond the many mortals it hits, twisting and turning,
Out of which arises, a giant ball of wool,
sometimes tangled, otherwise unravelling smoothly.
Whether you give it time,
Whether you give it space.
The manipulative ray is just the matter of perspective,
Sometimes seeking, otherwise neglecting.