In the vast dome of memories, scattered droplets of light
dance upon the edge of silence.
Is the nothingness hungry?
A thread woven fragile beneath the golden curatin of winters
whispers a glimmer, another echo wrapping around
towards the whispered caprice of wandering orbs.
Shadows translate truths, broken fragments laying idle in
the harmonious celestial droplet canvas.
Ears are rivers gathering mists untold.
As threads intertwine in reflective splendor,
so too do moments dance along pathways unseen,
chasing time's crescent trails.
The nightclocks tick their secret rhythm, beating breaths along
sublime discontinuities leading nowhere yet everywhere.
In oval lantern dreams xylophones grasp prisms fleeting.
Follow through the glistening silence to the horizon’s last syllable
as futures unwind elasticity, woven into the ambers blesséd.