There was a time when the stars sang. They hummed in unison, elaborating on tales unspoken. Beneath their watch, paths were whispered into existence. These were the hinterlands, where silence was profound, and every breath echoed like a forgotten melody.
Missing are those voices, obscured under layers of time – transmissions from a realm untended. Yet, occasionally, one might hear a fragment: a caterpillar weaving dreams, the luminosity of a single dew drop, the rustle of pages in a journal forgotten among roots.
Seek in the in-betweens, and you might catch a glimpse of their haunting enigma. Out there, entwined in the caverns of mind, lay hidden doorways to pathways unknown — a paradox of presence and absence intertwined, longing for the curious wanderer.
Echoes of the Past Eternal Dream