Celestial Fugue

In harmonics unseen, the stars compose a symphony—a fugue that resonates across the universal confines. When we listen closely, do our thoughts not drift with the cosmic tide?

Dreams echo in the astral void, like whispers of galaxies yet to form. Are they echoes of what is, or, perhaps, shadows of what could be? Remember, every thought sheds light akin to a dying sun.

Consider: the pulsating hum of existence, felt but unnoticed—each vibration a transient truth, each pause a necessary silence in the oral depths of time.