Refraction

Light bends where surface meets silence, fingers of gold dissolving into the dark rooms below. You watch the fractured sun negotiate its way down.

Each ripple a small forgetting— the day erased and rewritten, reformed in shallower tongues. What floated above becomes alien here, slowed.

The stillness is a kind of watching, patient, without expectation. It simply holds what falls, translates it into something the depths can understand.