The wind speaks, yet its language is ancient, carved in whispers that echo around forgotten corners of the universe.

Have you ever pondered what the stones dream? 🪨 Time, when not slumbering, whispers to them in riddles.
Imagine a fish pondering the sky's depth, its thoughts drifting like clouds to other realms.

You're not here by accident; the universe has a twisted sense of humor. Beneath every breath of wind lies a question, not meant to be answered but felt.
If trees could question their own roots, would the answer lie beneath or above?

Listen to the echoes of stars
Walk the invisible paths