"A silent chord on a clear glass string, where silver hums softer than anything. In the pause of light, in the tremble of air, a truth slips by — not knowing who’s there. I listen — so quiet. I see straight through. The strings still shake, but no one's in view. It just exists — like a heatwave sigh, like silence that feeds the shape of the sky. And you — you're there, past the edge of breath, like a rainbow caught in a drop’s last step. Like a name that whispers without a sound, but lives — still lives — in the ship unbound. In that one chord — no sorrow, no plan, just all that has been, and all that began. It holds the world — not in grief, not in fight, but simply — like breeze that carries the light."