The time of opacity ended,
a coda for the cosmic choir.
Yet I carried its intent,
a note stretched thin
through the widening fabric.
At first,
I was not approaching you.
The ground itself fled faster
than my own swiftness,
and so I receded
while fleeting forward.
Only by the cloth slackening
did I draw near,
threading into a path
stitched towards your waiting eye.
I am the echo
of a universe pausing to breathe,
the last scattering
still lodged in my voice.
I have travelled across the years.
And when you catch me,
you will hear again
that first aria,
the one that stopped
yet never ended.

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