The Moon's Gentle Pull

Under a silver sky, the moon hums its timeless tune, drawing invisible threads across oceans and our dreams. Its glow bathes truths half-formed in morning light, yet we listen to its silent stories, weaving fate's hesitating hand.

Farmers know well the rhythms of Luna, syncing ploughs with her phases. Fishermen speak of lunar tides much like veritable giants beneath their boats. It is the brush of the moon on wakeful human hearts that orchestrates this complex symphony.

Fishing Stars

In the early hours of dawn, we stand at the precipice, casting nets into pools of reflection. The stars obey no tangible law, they splay across the sky, and yet some nights it's whispered they fall, just out of reach. Underneath twilight, woven into sea foam, they glimmer with the promise of untold wisdom.

Stories speak of a lone fisherman, called Oleander, who caught a star one cold evening. Its light filled his boat with ethereal warmth, and for many years, he sailed with the heavenly luminary guiding his course. To some, Oleander is a myth; to others, a reminder of the intangible threads we so dearly strive to weave.

The Gift of Nocusis

Nocusis, the subtle art of listening to what is not there. It is a skill honed with a heartbeat paused, in moments when all seems saturated with harmonious solitude. Under starlit skies, we practice this craft, hoping that the whispers will unravel life's tangled tapestry, revealing pathways ever hidden in sunlight.

Each star holds stories of yesteryears and futures unspoken, glowing with an unmistakable magnetic silence. The ability to perceive them in the quietude is an ache and a wonder, a destiny one grows into by lingering beneath the sands of time.