The horizon opens.
Endless gray touches the timid sky.
No boundaries, no purpose.
Just the whisper of air, of silence.
In the expanse, seek not
the answers but breathe
in the void; let it fill
the emptiness^1.
Footprints in shifting sand.
Markers of passage,
ephemeral
as the stars above^2.
Grains of time slip
through fingers;
the edge holds all
and nothing.
Turn back or forward,
choice is an illusion
in the expanse^3.
Above, below,
the edges dissolve,
merging with the space
between thoughts.