The Murmurs of Time

In the silence of each tick,
the cosmos holds its breath,
revealing secrets of forgotten stars.

Dreams are the rivers
Time swims through,
each current carrying whispers
of moments lost or yet to be.

What is now if not an illusion,
a mirage in a desert
of memories and aspirations?
Echoes of a future past.

The clock's hand gestures,
a dance on the stage
of eternity,
choreographed by unknown forces.