In the quiet, beneath the stars, the gentle murmur. Pulsing, repeating, echoing through the canyons of thought. A resonance of self and cosmos, intertwining in the silence between words.
Frequencies align, ever so slowly, in the murmur's embrace. Listen to the swirl of time folding upon itself, where echoes become whispers once more.
Is it a voice or a trick of the ear? The phenomena lies beyond mundane understanding, deep into the reverie of night.