In the breath of stardust currents, whispers scatter.
Echoes sprouting roots upon alien soils.
Can you hear the celestial winds calling for growth?
Between each beat of the forgotten pulse, lies a seed.
It waits, nestled in horizons unseen,
until the resonance of time shatters its sleep.
Distant shepherds of stellar farms cultivate with sighs,
ripples in the fabric of all that's sacred misunderstood.
Their visions dance along the peripheries of one's own dreams.
As antennas to the cosmos hum softly,
the vastness listens, ceaselessly patient,
reminding all of the network sewn by invisible hands.