I was writing some treatise on human psychology,
Compacting coincidences in a twilight fog,
When an errant beam of sunlight penetrated my eye
Through a grating window blind unclosed,
Causing in my visage a triple sunspot stained,
Reinforced by blinking and gaining movement
As some mystic dance holding ultimate epiphany
In the interpretation of its meandering,
Fading as my knowledge grows,
Letting yet learnings pend in hysteresis
Before, as the sun in its sacred movements,
Dipped outside the confines of the window’s box,
And my lesson, if ever one there was,
Faded just behind its teacher,
Retaining naught but minor damage to my sight
And a distraction I will never recover from.

-Poyetikos