(Poem #347 on new numbering scheme)
There's going down. There's going up. Which way you choose to go depends on your desire. Desire can lead, but those descents can stray: long corridors with many doors require decisions once again. It's better, then, to walk the upward path. The clouds can serve as steppingstones, and rainbows tell you when to turn, and when to jump, and even swerve. Well, all of this might seem fantastic news, but there's a problem still. You don't yet know where you might need to stop, and catch the views - that mountain for example, with glaring snow: it needs attention from the angels who you hope might tell you plainly what is true.
– structurally, it’s a sonnet (of some kind – Elizabethan?), but I don’t think it’s very sonnet-like, thematically, and there’s too much enjambment.