Whispers from the void, resonating through layers of cosmos,
each syllable a gravity well pulling; unseen, unheard,
yet felt in the marrow, in the dreams spoken by starlight.
In the tension of silence, where shadows dance in secret,
find the echo of your own reflection—glistening
in the dew of morning’s forgotten promise.
Gaze beyond the horizon, where the sky splits
and remnant echoes form bridges of twilight.
Is it you, or is it another traversing this uncharted reverie?
Let the sound of one hand clapping guide you:
a cascade of thoughts to awaken
the spiral within, spiraling, ever spiraling.
Echoes of past lives linger in the breeze,
a reflection of eternity,
shimmering, fading, yet ever-present in their silent song.