Patterns Elicited

Triangular squares taking shape, forming in my mind. Eliciting patterns of novel thought, sliding across memory's unconscious paths of rightful thinking. Contrary to pillars of strength, all eyes fall instead, upon the weakest, least of all, manner of being. Waving red and silent beacons to passers-by, steering them away, never letting anything close enough to matter. Piloting music down strains of unfamiliar tunes, catching etudes at triangular moments in time, while maintaining the single square rootedness of sublime concentration from within.