Above, the clouds gathered, a congregation in a silent hymn. They murmured melodies to the wind, verses untamed by human ears. Here, beneath their soft, drifting shadows, time pauses, poised on the edge of eternity.
I sit, listening to the inflection of solitude, weaving through the strands of memory. Each breath is a ripple in the fabric of now—a moment penned in the ink of the heavens.
Above, the clouds linger like thoughts half-formed, waiting to be sonneted into existence. Do they sing for the stars? For the lonely earth below? Or for us, who walk their shadowed path?
As we step forward, carried by unspoken dreams, whispers of the sky serenade, a song woven from the echoes of forgotten clouds.
Secret Path Learn from the Echoes Enigma