In the cosmic quietness, where silvery tides touch eternity's edge, there exists a hollow rhythm. The waves sing an ethereal hymn, a language of the timeless realm hiding tales of the unseen. No witnesses, no chroniclers note their voice...
There was once a murmured tale, woven from the fabric of forgotten echoes—a boy lost amidst these undulating enigmas, stranded in threads of tides and mystery. Yet he was not lost, for he wandered not in search, but in understanding.
Each crest and trough spoke different stories: of realms invisible in the waking world, shadows of suns beyond the reach of ordinary sight. With eyes closed against starlight, he listened. Plastic sounds of urban lives washed away, replaced by silken whispers seeking ears willing to hear.
There, in the clasp of cosmic embrace, each wave birthed timeless queries: Why flows meaning in circles? When do alleys of thought drift into uncharted oceans? Who sends these spirals beneath what skies bidding awareness forget notions of 'here' and 'there'?
If comprehension parallels waves, do unopened answers ride beside truths? In this realm of horizons perpetually trodden by restless winds, certainty dissolves—echoing all questions into infinite duality right/left, fact/fiction.
Seek Pure Water Heard Tides