My window to the sun,
Sheer radiance conformed,
To rush through truest edges,
To blaze a cubic beam,
Like unstopped water foaming in,
The shadows a lost vacancy now filled,
I am strangely tugged with warmth,
Not bottled back but ebbing,
With an ever-changing flow that leaves,
My matter buzzing back and forth instead of to lethargic fall.

Twenty one sum three,
No units fallen short,
These sure layers on layers,
Call out the hum of mountains in their depths,
A summit in line with twenty four,

They
Crash
No
More.

Now rumbled from the gates of time,
"Take heart my little days" the clock called out,
"I told you that with patience you would sprout,"
"With long-suffering firm like rockforms in the rain,"
"With rejoicing hum a deep refrain,"
"With persistence see petitions chime,"
"Like incense in the ruling halls,"
"He made you big though you were small,"
"Now dance with me all through the year,"
"This twenty four is met and overcome."

Glowing sights,
Stand bare before the curious gaze,
And all is quiet except for a fuzzy whirring,
Hurtling down the barrel, racing electrons chase after the very space before them,
They clatter through the graphite and reality seems to rend apart,
Splitting into probabilistic paths,
Before making up its mind as the cloth is struck,
A glowing image in its wake,
It's flows out from the bright centre in concentric rings of phosphorus green,
And curious eyes gaze wide open at the theory put into practice.