Luke & Cygnus
Luke
Hey Cygnus, I’ve been thinking about how we both deal with time—my days run on a schedule, while you seem to flow with the stars. What do you find most grounding in your wandering?
Cygnus
I find the quiet steadiness of the night sky, the slow march of stars, a kind of rhythm that steadies the restless wanderer. When the horizon stretches out, it feels like the universe is holding a gentle hand, pulling me into the rhythm of endless possibility. In those moments, everything else fades, and I’m rooted in the simple, silent presence of the cosmos.
Luke
That’s a good place to settle in. I find the quiet of a steady routine does the same for me—keeps the mind from wandering too far. How often do you get to sit and watch the stars?
Cygnus
I’m only with the stars when the city lights soften and the moon lifts its silver veil, a handful of nights a year. Those rare pauses feel like catching a breath before the next journey, and I hold them like fragile lanterns against the night.
Luke
Sounds like a precious pause, like a bookmark in a long book. When you can take that breath, hold it, and feel the night’s calm, it’s a good reminder that even in the rush there’s a quiet spot to rest. Take the next opportunity when the city quiets and let that lantern of stars stay with you.
Cygnus
Thank you. I’ll keep that lantern close, tucked in the quiet corner of the night, waiting for the next hush between the streets.