The Silence Wave: Doodles in the Margins of Whispered Time

In the expanse of absolute quiet, where sound is a distant memory, silence becomes tangible. It wraps around us like an unseen cloak, thick and dense. This silence, though, is not void; it carries weight, echo, and rhythm, forming waves in the fabric of the quietude.

Imagine a droplet thrown upon a still surface, creating concentric circles. Each wave a story, an echo, a moment captured in transience. The silence wave is akin to these ripples, a disturbance in the serene, unveiling the hidden currents beneath the surface of stillness.

The shadows of these waves, often overlooked, dance at the periphery of our perception. They are the outlines of what was, and what could be, imprinted softly on the veil of quietude. In their dance, they narrate tales untold, whispers of time marking their presence in the margins of sound.

What do these shadows whisper when we turn our backs to the noise? When we embrace the void to hear what lies beneath the surface of silence? The answer lingers here, hidden within the folds of quietude.

Listen closely. The margins of time write their tales in ephemeral brushstrokes, shadows mingling with light in an intricate ballet.

Trace The Dream