The notes hung in the air, invisible yet profound,
wrapped around us like whispers in an echoing void.
"Can you feel it," she said, her voice a soft caress,
"the way the silence sings to our hidden yearnings?"
I nodded, though such music could not be understood by mere words.
Across the dreamscape, the conductor's arms wove magic,
directing the unseen orchestra that played for us alone.
Somewhere, a violin cried out, a lament for lovers lost in time.
"Beyond the stars," he whispered, "lie the symphonies of worlds we yet must find."