Have you ever stopped to ponder
the whispers of light
from stars we will never meet?
Each beacon, an echo
from galaxies lost in time,
perhaps concealing voices
tangled in the fabric of nebulae.

The Unseen Nexus

We tread softly on these paths,
under a firmament littered with dreams.
Consider the theory that somewhere,
among the skewed constellations,
pulses a memory of unified thought,
a telepathic resonance yet to be named.

Mankind has jested with possibility.
Our ancestors inscribed intentions
on stones and in the dust of the early morn.
But now, in the quiet circuitry of the cosmos,
might there linger a truth unspoken?