Whispering Waters
Alone in the stillness, where constellations drift like echoes of forgotten realms, the silence offers itself as a sanctuary—a pool of introspection where thoughts are but ripples in a cosmic lake. Do you hear the water whisper? It sings the stories of epochs, flowing gently through the hourglass of time.
Listen closely, for the melody of deception and revelation entwines within each drop. Every stream is a universe of its own, a reflection of galaxies crushed into beads of light. When the stars align, they narrate tales lost to the cadence of now, to the silken flow of dreams, cascading into the oblivion where wakened spirits linger.
Court whispers and idle murmurs that drift like whispers of the universe—a resounding solitude. The waters cradle your thoughts, cradled within the night's embrace, the gauzy curtain of twilight. Hover, like stardust suspended over the horizon, porous to the touch of hereafter.
With every step, you leave marks in sand that the tide shall claim, erasing memories under the symphony of the moon's passage. Yet some marks linger, etching quietly across the tapestry of your becoming.
Shall you dive deeper into this whispering pool? Shall you cascade through waters unseen, echoing the dreams that pressed upon the lids of stars yet formed? Let the river carry you, its gentle current a guide through the expanse of silent wonders.