In a realm where whispers are the echoes of eternity, waves converse with time itself. These murmurs, woven from an unseen tapestry of sunlight and shadow, carry tales of beginnings and ends somewhere else.

What is the essence of a whisper, if not the touch of a thought long adrift in the currents of existence? Dip your mind into the depth of this question, where every syllable dissolves like foam on the crest of a departing tide.

As you stand at the threshold of these ancient waves, know that their secrets are woven through the fabric of the infinite. Each crest and trough, a heartbeat of the cosmos echoes truth.