Adorned with an inquisitive mind raging at the feral universe, I clench its staff decorated with mystery and sloth I chase the truth A rabid squirrel flying tree to tree, branch to branch, scattering leaves with autumn wind As my accolade, it propels me, daring me to surf the skyline— it whispers: I will catch the wave for you One by one, steps curved from fallen hypotheses pave the way toward the hidden canvas, an imagining captured in real time A doppelgänger, a stand-in for the Royal off in hibernation, binding time for winter departure A photo glimpsing the mirror, an ache to see its twin reflecting. Is the staff truly meant only to be gazed— as we do an aquarium in motion? Not a fable. Not to be shared. Not under campfire light. Acting as regent for the moonlight.