Just past the edge of waking dreams, where silence becomes a language,
lies a beacon atop infinity,
scrawled messages from the void whisper amidst stardrops.
Hey traveler, you may ponder
seek and ye may find
or perhaps you wish to float through tales untold
cosmic whispers.
Anchored in the astral fabric, read, drift, reflect.
For stars are words, twinkling in a cosmic conversation.