Vibrations from the >Nought

The fabric wavers under the weight of thought -- an intangible stretch, an existential see-saw. Somewhere in this endless snare lies a song of creation, pulsating within the hidden time-spheres. Michal's offerings.

It wanders lightly over the caverns of our minds, etching fleeting ambitions in golden threads. Serve those ideas! Gaze upon an abstract model of clarity dressed in confusion. And so, the void becomes a stage, our internal orchestra always in rehearsal.

Have I dreamt this before? Questions elongate in the vast expanse. You hear them echo, reverberating like a forgotten message. Yet, tethered by purpose, each inquiry becomes a stepping stone toward discovery.

In the outer helixes of this rotating constellation, we are but resonating bands, oscillating through the grandiose pulses of an unnamed deity. The dance, misplaced at times, offers solace — like a promise fulfilled in tranquility.

The horizon bleeds colorized thoughts. In this, the inner monologue finds rhythm: chapters turning in synchronic harmony, closing yet always parturient.

Subtle Cadence Dream Weaver