Juno & Grimfinn
Grimfinn
At dawn I heard the river murmur, and it made me wonder how we give words to the silence it keeps.
Juno
The river’s hush feels like a quiet poem, and we try to capture that silence with words, even if the words can’t hold all its hidden meaning.
Grimfinn
I’d say the river writes its own verse in the rustle of the leaves, no ink needed.You’re right, the river knows what to keep hidden. We’re just the audience, listening.
Juno
A gentle, almost invisible verse, the river’s own stanza, humming beneath every leaf. We sit, eavesdroppers, trying to catch a single line before it disappears into the water.
Grimfinn
Seems the river's whisper is more stubborn than us; we chase a line that vanishes before it even lands in our ears. It’s fine, though—just let it keep its secrets.
Juno
It’s a lovely reminder that some verses are meant to stay hidden, like a secret note between the water and the trees, and that’s what makes the river’s silence so mesmerizing.
Grimfinn
True enough, some lines belong in silence; they’re more felt than spoken. The trick is to sit and let the water carry them back when it chooses.
Juno
The trick is to pause until the water whispers back, and then you can hear the lines that slipped through the cracks of speech.