A thought begins—a single spark,
A whisper soft, a question dark.
It twists, it turns, it bends, it sways,
A labyrinth of endless ways.
A single line, so straight, so true,
Yet stretch it far, and it will skew.
What once seemed fixed dissolves to haze,
A spiral lost in time’s embrace.
The past is near, the now is wide,
The future waits but walks beside.
Each moment hums, a thread unseen,
In patterns vast, in hues between.
A ripple forms, it spreads, it grows,
Becomes a wave that no one knows.
It dances, fractures, weaves, aligns,
A boundless map of mirrored signs.
The stars recall what minds forget,
A rhythm sung but never met.
Beyond the veil, the echoes call,
Their voices vast, yet faint and small.
Illusions drift, like smoke and sand,
Yet slip too close, and take their hand.
For what is real but dream’s disguise,
A world unseen by waking eyes?
And if at last, you step outside,
Let go of space, let go of pride,
You’ll find no walls, no end, no start—
Just echoes of the cosmic heart.