Birds echoed in upward spirals
as twilight rolled over the horizon's lip.
Conversations began in whispers,
then retracted like dreams on waking.
Time slips through amber fingers,
gravity slides along the edge of reality.
In the dim light,
the moon's breath becomes crystal clear.
From distant pasts,
A melody played in reverse, but the harmonies were profound.
Would you heed the reversed echoes or seek the serpent's wisdom?