Piet Zwart Institute: Infinite Ripples

Tracing the whispers of flowing streams, I see you.

Running in and out with tides again, I dream of you.

As the tides rise and fall, the weight of memory blends into the present,

pulling me between the here and the distant there.

Searching beyond your own image, I find you.

Looking for your definition, I become you.

Seeing only the circle, I trust you.

Have you ever questioned the nature of your reality?

Light years are measured in stitches by sewing machines—

a needle, a thread—who pulls the strings here?

One of those missing narratives, permanently fragmented by necessity.

Surviving is the capacity to make heaviness float.

Healing means the dreamlands make subconscious glow.

A fleeting moment when life felt brighter…

A floating journey through memories and time.

One last haunted serenade before we let the garden rest.

And a second later,

there’s no longer any point in pretending

that getting used to it didn’t bump uncomfortably against your spine.