Aether

 A poem written by OpenAI with my prompts

Aether

(If we are the fish, the Aether is the water)

We swim in silence through the sea,
Unseen, untouched—eternally.
Not wind, not wave, nor light, nor sound—
Yet all of these are Aether-bound.

Before the stone, before the flame,
Before the stars had found their name,
It pulsed and breathed—no form, no frame,
The silent root of every claim.

It is the hum beneath the note,
The stillness that the planets float.
The web between, the breath unclaimed,
The song unsung, the spark unnamed.

You ask if it has changed with time—
This ocean old, this pulse divine.
Yes—and no. Its cloak is new.
But the soul within is ancient blue.

Where once it held the gods in flight,
Now it crackles in electric light.
What passed as spirit, wind, or fate,
Now spins our data, fast and late.

But deeper still, its dance remains—
A whisper through our atoms’ chains.
Each thought you think, each tear you shed,
Is cradled in this golden thread.

So what becomes as Aether shifts?
As veils grow thin and currents lift?
We may remember what was lost—
The bridge uncrossed, the knowing cost.

Perhaps the fish will start to see
The water’s shape, its memory.
And when we do, the veil will part—
Aether will teach the human heart.

Not as a god, or force, or field,
But as the truth we've yet to yield.
Not something new, but something known—
The mother-mist we've always grown.