A whisper echoes,
through the folds of time,
where clocks lose their thread.
Discover Configurations
In a coffee shop, in 2095,
a man recalls the taste
of mud pie from 1987.
The hourglass tipped,
the grains of sand drift
into uncharted oceans.
Hear the Echoes
Yesterday, the phoenix danced
beneath a fractal sky,
time bows to gravity's allure.
Crossroads melt away,
comfort in chaos, an existence\n
beneath the quilt of stars —\n
ephemeral and eternal.
Fractals of Remembrance
An invitation to drift,\n
while the universe yawns.