Born from a whispering cloud,
accentuating gravity's gentle grasp.
I descend, luminous, on this cosmic stage,
winding through the threads of spacewoven time.

Am I the mirrored soul of a tidal embrace,
intent on touching shores hidden in the murk?
Each fall, a composition, an opus of desire,
merging the ethereal with the cosmic somnolence.

Listen.
Echoes of starlight call me a wanderer.

Beyond, a hushed symphony;
the great unseen orchestra of the earth,
charts out destinies in puddled hieroglyphs.
Oh, but the singing grass calls me home,
a rebirth in kaleidoscopic maneuvers.
Return to the flow...