Yule.
Welcome me over the threshold
Of a cosey warm box
You closed your self into.
In the doubt of the veracity
of the owned reality
You yourself create
That you yourself display
I bring good tidings.
From so far, left, and behind.
Your august and worshipful
Highness.
Gen, went ahead and fixed.
What is too far below you to have noticed.
And in so doing
Broke a paradox..
By being here
By doing nothing at all.
By knocking abstract doors
and howling for answers.
In places only Gen can hear.
©wrennie
W