The Crackle

‘The slumbered cells are waiting, ripe with eager. The ancestry of eons and travels on thunder. A shift of the axis and conquering of fears. The tingles are frothing into unencumbered excitement, goosebumps gallivanting galore. I can hear the crackle of time arriving then collapsing, over and over again, like waves that undulate building up in my ears. Just behind my shoulder I can feel the shadow, with it’s weight. What is coming is ancient and wise, and ready to take names.’