In the stillness of dawn, when the world holds its breath, a symphony begins. This is not a symphony of sound but of thought—an orchestra of potential untethered.
What music does a dream hum in the absence of wakefulness? In the silence of reality's void, the notes assemble, soft and unseen, crafting melodies from the fabric of contemplation.
Does the universe whisper when it dreams? A crescendo of stars, a decrescendo of galaxies, all in harmony, each note a reflection of existence itself.
Listen closely, and you may hear it—the silent sonata of being, played by the unseen hands of time and space.