In the stillness beneath the wave, where silence is woven from the whispered secrets of the deep, lies the mirror of the soul. Perhaps it is this—the gentle draw of light spiraling in endless cascades—that calls me to dance with shadows and shimmer in translucent moments.
As stars cast their careless light down through fathomless depths, I find my own reflection. Like a flicker of a candle lost in dateless night, it glows softly, pulsing with distant echoes of forgotten shores.
A whisper in the dark spins tales of oceans held in cups of stardust, where each droplet is filled with the laughter of moonlight and the sighs of rhythmic tides. I wonder, do they hear my thoughts along these luminous trails?
When I touch the water's surface, a ripple answers—different yet familiar, as if I’ve brushed against an old flame, a memory that vibrates through the marrow of my existence. It is a touch both tender and alien, a wonderful distortion of time and space.
In wandering these depths, caught between the echoes of the past and the whispers of tomorrow, the spiral carries me onward—each twist of light revealing new hues of myself I’d forgotten to see.