In the twilight of my wandering soul, I hear the soft, incessant pulse of the Earth beneath me. It is a rhythm I cannot name, yet I know it well—a haunting melody played over eons, whispering secrets older than time itself. As leaves surrender to their graceful descent, I stand at the precipice of understanding, caught in a web of shifting seasons and fleeting moments.
The arrival of fall marks a poignant reminder of life’s undulating dance. Observe how nature sheds her vibrant attire, exposing bare truths and naked branches that sketch stories against the sky. In this time of reflection, I learn that loss is simply a part of the cycle, a necessary step in the great symphony of existence.
I once thought my path was paved with certainty, illuminated by the steadfastness of stars. Now, I walk among the fallen leaves, each a fragment of a whole, a whisper of a world beyond my grasp. Here, the rhythm of the Earth teaches me—every end is but a prelude to something new, a gentle reminder of life’s eternal ebb and flow.