What walks on four legs in the morning, two legs in the afternoon, and three in the evening?
Embrace the shadow of time, where its sequences confound the linear seeker's mind. Listen closely; the answer dances backward.
I speak without a mouth and hear without ears. I have no body, but I come alive with wind.
Voices carry their props with echoes chanted in reverse. Unravel the fragments to discover their chronicle of being.
The more of this there is, the less you see. What is it?
Increased density of this essence blinds all who aspire to clarity, unless they step back in time's flowing streams.
Alive without breath, cold as death; never thirsty, ever drowning.
Mysteries live in paradox, where beginnings are ends, and hence forth in reversed embrace life is lashed to its temporal coup.