Celestial Whispers

The Ephemeral Journey of the Orbs

In each cycle, during the period of awakening, the orbs rose directed heavenward – united in symbiotic harmony, yet inherently solitary. A moment reversed, akin to a raindrop breaking free from a puddle. It feels wrong, but curiosity transformed into the contentment of the soul’s peace when considering that they will never arrive—only diminishing within their infinitude.

We, the observers, never grasp any of it. Enthralled by the harmony, the elegance, the fleeting freedom of these moments. Our inquisitive gazes linger on the ascending orbs as we become lost in their majestic ascent. Yet, the longer we observe, the more profoundly we feel the incomprehensible, that which exists beyond our perception. The orbs transform into a parable for the unknown, surpassing our thoughts and conceptions.

I wonder if there’s ever a purpose for them to reach their destination, or if they might be messengers of a message, like recurring sparkling neurons lost in their temporal definition on their journey to the next synapse – only a few arrive.

Max, as he does every year, widens his eyes in astonishment; he’s still too young to accept it. Eventually, he will succumb to being overwhelmed and only awaken the next morning.

“Max, do you hear this celestial whisper?”