At a quarter-to-ten the great clock chimes.
One strike compounds with the next
Like opposing ripples on a pond.
And though you do not know it
Their interference pattern writes a spell:

Even if you were able to dip your fingers in
Time has shifted and you are twelve times changed.
Though thoughts are flashing in your head
They flit and flirt like skipping stones
Into and out of your consciousness
Bouncing off your understanding
As small bits of the all encompassing code.

Eventually you awaken once more, and
The truth of it all is exactly the same,
But you will question, won’t you? 

For some kind of comprehension
But the intention is infinitesimal and secret –
All dimensions are impenetrable one to the other.

Your panicked mouth is open, you fight for breath:

So new, so.... So it starts all over again.
Fight to gain control of sound, of your hands,
The rise and fall of your chest, your understanding.
Try second-guessing this awakening moment!
These faces looking down upon you

Familiar, comforting and careful,

Are somehow actually quite expected.

And all the things you do not know
Are before you…

Waiting for this autonomous rediscovery.

True??

© griffonner 2026