it’s not a simple pulse
or glow
or ebb and flow

it emanates, effuses
moves
it hums and shifts 
and breathes
and teems and bleeds

it waxes as it wanes
it sustains

it blinks and basks
in fog and shadow black
but ever holds them back;
it sits, unyielding

if I peer into
the center, sole
within the tick of time,

(litany of light’s design,
the shadow of which is the mind;
the split becometh sign;
an augur, yet electrified,
divine)

I find

it multiplies
from sources slipped

into ever pocketed perpetuity

divided throughout space, beyond acuity

through you and me,
through everything, coursing

are spheres that surge in unity

that swell, and lose their pressure

only to return in equal measure


forever
and ever

and ever