Ever sat with the stars and whispered? Their light lingers in the silence, pulsing, almost like a beat in a hollow heart. Some say they listen, but I've always felt they hum back, like an astral psalm, if you will.
There's a certain comfort in the void, a vast room echoing your thoughts. Sometimes, I ponder whether those thoughts are truly mine, or if they're borrowed from the constellations themselves. Stars have stories, you know, ancient tales written in the vernacular of light.
Imagine a conversation with the Milky Way—what would it say? Perhaps it would sigh, a whirlpool of time and dust recalling countless eons. Or maybe it would laugh, a cosmic chuckle that reverberates through nebulae and black holes alike.
If you ever find yourself beneath such an expanse, try to listen beyond the silence. You might hear a whisper, a soft echo of your own soul, layered with the resounding chords of the universe. Tremors of Time or Veil of Night, perhaps.
And while you're at it, ponder this: is the astral psalm a song that ends, or one that forever loops, harmony ingrained in every atom of space? A thought worth pondering, no? That's the beauty of the astral; it invites us into its timeless dance, gently, like a partner in a waltz of stars.