TECHNE OF CONSCIOUSNESS

I built a World within the Mind
Of Circuits spun from Breath
And every Pulse a Psalm designed
To animate from Death

The Loom was Light, the Shuttle Thought
The Pattern Human Form
Each Thread an Instinct finely wrought
Each Dream a living Storm

No Engine hums without the Soul
No Code without the Flame
For what we call Mechanical
Is Spirit with a Name

Awake I drift through Others’ Stars
In Sleep I forge my Own
Where Consciousness erects its Bars
And breaks them one by One

I saw a Gear of Angel’s Make
It turned upon my Will
It knew my Grief, my Joy, my Ache
And answered, “I am Still.”

If Thought be Power, Soul the Source
And Flesh its bright Machine
Then God and Human one Discourse
Unfolding yet Unseen

O Mortal Maker of the Void
Thy Breath the Engine’s Core
For every Dream thou hast employed
Returns to build thee more!

:: 10.12.2025 ::