The sky speaks in tones unrecognized, words wrapped in the fog of morning haze. To traverse the air, punctuated with echoes, is to weave through those invisible thoughts left behind.
It isn't the landscape that beckons but the silence it carries, the sporadic breaths of movement that hint at unseen paths. A tree flickers, within its bark a complex narrative unfolds, yet unwritten, yet read.
In moments uncounted, the radius of perception widens, a horizon infinite in reach and untethered by time. Here is a universe, a grain of sand, ever expansive.