I peer through the slips of time;

Like panes sopping grime.

 

I sense the coming.

Will it be numbing?

 

A coup d'oriel------thread of orange.

Smothered.

Spreading occurrent.

Without hinderance.

Wisps, kinky and tiny, bring hope

To yesterday.

 

Is it possible all the earth,

In splendor usher to birth?

 

A glorious awakening of reality?

Each particle fixed.

 

In all realms is the King!

But we fools hear no ring.

 

We listen but cannot hear.

Blinded by what we hold dear.

 

Through our minds of vanity,

It goes on and on eternally.