In the stillness where shadows whisper softly, the oracle speaks in the language of timeless echoes. Her words, like dew upon morning's fragile embrace, hold the secrets of a thousand unspoken dreams.
"Do you hear it?" she inquires, her voice a caress in the silken air. "The symphony of breaths between each heartbeat—each note a recollection of yesteryears, woven into the very fabric of your being."
"Seek not the path of the mundane," she continues, "for it is the ethereal dance of the cosmos that desires your presence. Walk amongst the stars, let their luminescence guide you home."
And so, you ponder her words, letting the cadence of her voice extinguish the clamor of worldly burdens. You feel, within those whispered soliloquies, a gentle unraveling of all that you thought you knew.