Time's riddles unravel in hours: 15 past 12 strikes 3, Echoing March's call. 6, the hour of June's embrace, As 30 retreats to 15, A dance of numbers and months. 45 past the stroke of 12 heralds 9, September's gentle arrival. Retracing steps, numbers intertwine, 15 becomes 6, as 3 mirrors the seasons' turn. In this cosmic cycle, I find my anchor in pi, 3.14, the numerical embodiment of love. From A to B is a journey of discovery, Through C, the vision of three, To D, the fourth dimension of awakening. As night draws its curtains, I close this door with a gentle whisper: Goodnight. 🌙
