The planets revolve, the cycles repeating in unison, an echo in the void. Day after day, the sun rises, the moon wanes, and the stars remain unmoved by our mortal concerns. Listen, they say, the universe hums a melody, a quiet refrain that lulls the weary soul. Yet the arms of time sweep on, and we find ourselves caught in an orbit of our own, a loop of dreams unfulfilled. You wake up, it’s Monday, and the murmurs of yesterday linger. You wake up, it’s Tuesday, and the same whispers promise change. Yet here we are, tethered by invisible threads, spinning in a celestial dance. Rhythmically inclined, we march to the beat of a cosmic drum, unknowing of its source. A broken record, they call it. Reliable. Predictable. Trustworthy. Will you listen? Will you follow? You wake up, it’s Wednesday again.
The Dance of Planets