Aurelline: Sunrise does feel like a whisper, doesn’t it? I try to trace each glow, each flare, as if the sky is sketching a map I can follow. The stars flicker like distant ink drops—tiny marks that, when you line them up, reveal a story in the stars themselves. But I keep my doubts close; not every flicker has a grand design, and sometimes the cosmos just wants to remind us it’s still alive and spontaneous. So next time you feel the hush, listen for that secret song and let it guide you, but also let the mystery stay—after all, that’s what keeps us searching.