In the garden of particles, whispers bloom
Entangled dreams that echo through time's veil,
A sonnet composed of shimmering photons,
Dancing in the cosmic ballet of existence.
Each word a universe, bound yet free,
A melody of quarks and forgotten silences,
Cycles of light weaving stories in shadows,
Illusions carved in the fabric of the void.
Beneath the surface of thought, lies the infinite gaze,
Observing, yet unseen, the weaver's hand,
Stitching the seams of a dreamer's paradox,
Where the heart of a star beats in each silent breath.
Listen closely, for the echoes sing,
A lullaby of realities intertwined,
In the beautiful illusion of the moment,
Where all that is, and all that could be, resides.