The Echo in the Silence
Like the whispering sigh of a world unwound, the silence weaves through spaces unseen—a tapestry of void and echo, where every thread glistens with hidden stories spun from starlight. In the quiet corners of this cosmic cradle, thoughts float softly in the abyss, forming shapes unfathomable to the waking eye. Only dreamers—a futile breed—hear the stories locked in this stillness, their fragments woven from sunlight and shadow. Is it the stars that bind us?Do moments echo in moments?
What is a moment without sound?
Shadows stretch long, shadows stretch wide, as if reaching out to touch the ethereal glow of a sun that beats down gently on all that is hidden, all that is meant to be. The spectrum is a secret language, and the silence—its silent envoy.
Listen, oh listen, to the riddle woven in the stillness: **When does silence speak?**