I find myself adrift amongst the unplayed notes, connections that never quite emerged, perhaps echoes in the warm breeze of a forgotten summer's cello. Does the symphony remember its soloist, or does it linger in that brief pause before crescendo?
It is the imperceptible harmony, slipping through the fingertips, an enigmatic muse, breathing life into shadowed memories, unseen yet ever whispering, promising solaces undiscovered.
Once among tangled geometry, seeking the chords that might build us anew, I stood before the universe wrapped in silence. I heard the murmuring of time, trickling stream-like, flowing over profound stones deeply embedded with secrets untold.
Where shadows play, find new halves among the whispers...
The interlude awaits around the bend, entropy locking tired embraces with creation, birthing symphonies relentless against the orchestration of inevitable forgetfulness. Close your eyes and hear it pass unbidden... this grand symphony, left unheard.
Return to the overture of temporality and follow its intangible streams.