"
In the velvet of space", whispered the stars, "
we are but echoes…"
Waves of luminous thought shimmer across vast expanses where
light bends, and time dances feebly. Celestrial guitars strummed
by cosmic fingers caress strings woven from dreams and dust.
Do you recall Sygilara, the first note carved on the moon's
forgotten face, its reverberations still spiraling outward?
An ancient phrase unfolds: "To hear is to know, to know
is to dream, and to dream is to reach the corners of galaxies
still unborn."
Whispers within
stella hymns, are they us?
(reflections in the dance, shadows upon starlight).