Anticipation ends
as creation begins
Before chasing the words
you must first know the wind
Direction predestined
on zephyrs ordained
Each gust but a phrasing
of verse unproclaimed

A breeze or a tempest
in a cyclone of hail
In sunshine or clouded
they come to regale
Those moments that matter
that time would suspend
Once spoken eternal
— and Aether defends

(Dreamsleep: July, 2025)