Knots

There was something holding him up,
Like a vague gesture of air in the glinting,
Triangular faces of rock:

A branching recursion of possibilities,
Each united in mirroring the infinite structure,
Was peering into his mind,
Regarding it curiously like a child
Looking at a puzzle.

The problem is that each piece contains its multitude
And has the look of other pieces.

It is not the flow of time that surrounds them,
But intentionality:
The knots of intentionality binding the stream to a net.

This is the dark light through which the legs of the beast weave.

***

What tugged him as it couldn't quite be
The vague suspension of thin air into
The glint of triangular faces whose branching
Recursion of possibles each
United in mirroring the infinite mirror
Reflecting the problem that each contains
The multitude of each whose coiling knots
Up a stream of the dark light's surface beneath
Which the legs of a darker beast gather and weave?

***

1. What tugged him,
1.1 as it couldn't quite have been the thin suspension of the air into a glint of triangular faces,
1.1.1. whose branching recursion of possibles,
1.1.1.1. each united in mirroring the infinite mirror,
1.1.2. reflected the problem that each contains the multitude of each,
1.1.2.1. whose coiling knots the stream of the dark light's surface,
1.1.2.1.1. beneath which the legs of a darker beast gather and weave?