Time: Time Travels

A streetlight glows faintly in the window.
Through the mist of almost morning,
Casting an eerie glow around the room.
A small, black picture frame
Hanging on the wall,
At the foot of the bed says,
"Husbands love your wives;
Wives honor your husbands;
Children obey your parents in the Lord."
A raging fever,
Sleep that does not last,
Moments of conscious awareness. 
Square letters suddenly appear in the frame.
Words.
A gold circle covers the words,
Rests momentarily,
Then seems to rise up.
It has sharp edges 
Like gold bricks.
Something is pulling it forward.
The gold circle breaks away,
Separating itself,
Even while it clings to the words.
The circle of gold breaks free,
Except for a single thread,
That remains attached to the words.
The circle twists forming a figure eight,
Infinity.
The yellow thread of gold
Moving on
Beyond infinity,
Traveling at the speed of light.
An unbroken thread
Piercing,
Penetrating.
Time.
Enters,
Leaves,
Returns to the place from whence it came.
We think
We travel through time;
Time travels through us.

Time travels.