Sphere Distortions Across the Solstice

In emptied skies, spheres of unknown light unfurl, like waltzing fragments

they drill through epochs, echoed in each twist and fold, casting shadows sharp as whispers

Ancient tales of astral marvels, whirlpools by night betrayed, borne by gravity's dream

Such distortions leave marks upon the moonlit grass, deciphered in dream scripts,
by eyes reopening in the mist