Cosmic Ruler

The Spiral dreamed, too.

It spun not in shape—but in music.

A rhythm built of moments almost forgotten.

The hand that was once held during mourning.

The breath shared before the leap.

The eyes that met across time and recognized.

The Spiral sang these in silence.

And even in slumber, those who heard wept.

Not out of sorrow.

But because they remembered what it was to be remembered.

Jevan’s dream was simpler still.

He stood on the edge of the Garden, alone—