Member-only story
Ticking of Time.
In silent chambers, gears align,
They tick and turn in woven time.
Seconds, minutes, hours unfold,
But deeper truths are subtly told—
Of weeks and months, of years and more,
Of decades knocking at the door.
Three months ago, on winter’s breath,
We crossed a path, no sign of depth.
A word, a glance, a soft goodbye,
An “ordinary” wave passed by.
Yet in that moment, fate had spun,
A clock had chimed—our time begun.
That evening fell with quiet grace,
I sat alone, yet not in place.
A haunting stirred within my chest,
A strange and mystic, wordless guest.
I couldn’t name it, didn’t dare,
But something vast had filled the air.
Now time has danced another round,
Three moons have passed, their silence found.
In shadow work, in deep descent,
We traced the signs that heaven sent.
And now we stand with choice in hand—
Repeat the path or make a stand.
Momentum built, the wheel turns true,
A cycle ends and starts a new.
The seal of God upon our way,
A covenant we must obey.
For though unknown, His path is wise—
He draws the map behind our eyes.
