Their inscrutable gaze
Pierces us with prehistoric questions.
When?
Trace the coils of an ammonite
From its outward swirl to centre
flourish; the gradual steps are like
trying to make a decision. The
dips are the maze and murk until
a ridge is reached. Phew, firmer ground.
Moving closer to the core the
process goes on til suddenly
Certainty blazes into being.
The turning has stilled, and
exhausted, the mind has found rest.
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