The tide whispers in echoes, the soft caress of the moon's unseen hand. A symphony of silence dances upon the water's skin, each skiff a note played adrift, longing for harmony yet unheard. Thoughts flow like the current, eddies of consciousness swirling, seeking shores unseen, only to dissolve into the greater whole.
Crescendos form in dreams, the mind a vast ocean echoing the forgotten songs of tides past. In the gentle crests a heartbeat, a pulse, the silent symphony composing itself. The world breathes, and underneath an orchestra unseen, yet always present, moves in the harmony of unseen hands.
Follow the Current Echo in the Depths