Whispering Tempest

The clock ticks a steady rhythm, like a heartbeat pulsing in the calm before the storm. There's something comforting in its predictability, yet it reminds me of the inevitable. Time, relentless, carries us forward, even when we wish to pause and breathe.

Outside, the world is preparing. Clouds gather in ominous formations, nature's congregation for a dramatic assembly. I sit here, listening to the wind's whispers, contemplating the delicate balance between destruction and renewal that every tempest embodies.

In moments like these, I find solace in the thought of distant shores. Places untouched, where the whispers of the tempest never reach. They remain in my mind's eye as serene havens, far removed from the chaos of thunder and rain.

Echo of Waves — A gentle reminder that every storm leaves behind a quieter, softer aftermath. The whispers fade, replaced by the soothing rhythm of waves.

Storm Dreams — Reflections on what it means to weather the storms, both in the literal sense and those we face within ourselves.