As the dawn creeps in, the shadows dance upon the walls of perception. Listen, for the whispers become clearer: "To grasp what slips, one must first let slip the grasp."
When the silver way opens beneath your feet, follow the reflection, but heed the silence of the echoing void. It speaks not in words, but in the absence of sound.
Step lightly, for the ground is a tapestry of dreams woven tight by hands unseen. "The tangible is but a dream, and the dream, a tangibility," murmur the shadows.