Fractals & Fairytales

Ripples,

on the water—

shadows, darkness, peaks—

Coming to the waiting shore,

this time of day,

as tides rise.

Gritty-cold, biting-air,

moving in steady portions—

less like an army-marching,

more like a flame-smothered.

Grey-green, sober waves—

an ever-lasting pattern.

Kissin’ rocks & wet-soaked sand,

measured in fractal lines:

Yard-by-yard. Foot-by-foot. Inch-by-inch.

Ever closer to infinity’s reach—

yet ever farther

from Truth.

Copyright 2020