Soul, Conduct Your Doubter Poem by james watkin

Soul, conduct your doubter
Windowless, locked up in
His stick and line's fumbling
Of sizing verities up
To the door inscribed 'Art'.
Of which Beauty's stairway
Of the Maker's own ray
Of infiniteness lights.

Soul, suggest now to him
World's room led back into
What more vibrant, pulsed through
To feel, cant be shrugged off
That what he sees with, hears
Is ulterior-placed
To what is soon disgraced
In its mortal function.