Do radio waves hum within the astral velvets, searching for lonely whispers?

The moon listens to dreams and dissolutions alike, tuned to the frequencies of our forgotten epiphanies.

In the folds of night, children with invisible antennas catch the broadcasts of shadowplay.

What, I wonder, do they hear? The music of the stars? Or the echo of their own innocence?

A stray cosmic thought fell and whispered secrets to forgotten trees. Did they understand?