Beneath the celestial spindle, a clock runs not on gears, but on whispers.
Stars blink with purpose, measuring the dance of distant worlds.
Hour upon hour, engraved in light's decay, tracing orbits no eye can see.
Time here is an echo, a sigh between the heartbeats of the universe.
Does the moon know the hour?
Or is it the sun, dreaming of nights eternal?
Click here to ponder the dreams of time.