Within the stillness of the square, a circle rises—

a sun, ancient and unwavering,

echoing the sacred light of Zoroastrianism,

where illumination is not merely seen, but revered.

 

From its radiance, two triangular forms emerge—

horses inclined toward one another,

Their meeting is quiet, inevitable,

as if drawn together by something older than intention.

 

Under its presence, they begin to bloom,

their bodies softening into ornament,

unfolding into vines, into memory, into continuity.

 

Wine moves within this transformation—

not as liquid, but as alchemy.

It binds and deepens,

turning contact into growth,

and form into something living.

 

Here, square, circle, and triangle converge—

containment, eternity, and becoming—

and in their union,

light and wine awaken form

into life.