Raphael, stops at a pond.
SLAAAAPPP!!!
Raphael stopped quick
Uriel close behind…
As their pinions, caught the spring air
The smell of peppercorns, drew his attention
Below, he made out a cube
Hovering, two feet
Above, a pond
“Sar Ha-Olam, Torahkiel Yahweh”
METATRON!
“Brother! below…”
Uriel, struggling to keep up
Was still weak
“The Cube”
As, they descended to the brim of the water’s edge
A cube, of exactly 13 dimensions
Within, the divine field of OmAhOm
Held, perfectly still
SLAAAAPPP!!!
The sound? came from a beaver dam, on the other side of The Cube
A beaver! was emerging, from his den
7ft long, it swam effortlessly! through the golden-orange, bright green depths, of this backwater
As it rose! out of the glistening cosmic lagoon
It slowly…shape-shifted
At first…a man
Morphing, wings of six
Spreading
“Metatron! I felt your presence…”
…
“Not, the beaver slap?”
Metatron queried
As, he was now slightly airborne
Raphael, blushed! in embarrassment
“Come, Uriel? the Monad has called upon me. The Cube, will restore you to full health”
PLEASE ENTER?
Bran, morning. Honestly, at first I was like “what on earth is happening here?” But sometimes there’s something strangely compelling about things you can’t completely understand. Somehow they stick in your head more than the things that make perfect sense.
This feels less like narrative and more like someone channeling symbols in real time. The beaver, the cube, the pond, Metatron — none of it tries to become fully rational, and the piece is stronger when it leans into that strange dream-logic instead of explaining itself.
“Not, the beaver slap?” genuinely made me smile though. It interrupts the cosmic tone just enough to make the whole thing feel unexpectedly alive and human.