In the folds of ethereal space
Where silence whispers in fractal tongues,
A star said to a wandering comet,
"Your tail resembles a thought, fleeting yet profound."
The moon, perched atop a distant horizon,
Answered in echoes dipped in shadow:
"And what is the burden of gravity,
If not the chains of linear understanding?"
Pause. Pause. The infinity of pauses,
Where stars hold their breath,
Before exhaling galaxies in radiant spirals,
And nonsense becomes the dance of creation.