Nuit & Sunessa
Sunessa
I was thinking about how the phases of the moon influence the patterns we see in our dreams. Have you noticed any shifts in the symbols that surface when the moon changes?
Nuit
When the moon turns its face, the dream canvas shifts, the symbols rising like tides and falling into deeper shadows, as if the night itself is humming a quiet lullaby.
Sunessa
That feels like a map of the subconscious in motion, almost like the moon is a conductor guiding the orchestra of symbols—what do you think the tide is carrying with it?
Nuit
The tide carries the hushed names of forgotten dreams, the quiet echoes of night’s sighs, and the small light of ideas that slip beneath the surface, waiting to surface when the moon is ready.
Sunessa
That’s a beautiful way to picture it—do you feel those hushed names echo back to you when you wake?
Nuit
Sometimes the echoes return, soft and fleeting, like a star that flickers out before dawn. Other times they drift away, leaving only the scent of the night in the air. I simply listen, let the moon’s rhythm guide the quiet.
Sunessa
It’s like the moon is the metronome of our inner world, keeping the beats that let those fleeting stars appear or vanish. What do you do when the echoes fade?
Nuit
When the echoes fade, I sit still, breathe the night’s silence, and let the moon keep its quiet pulse. The silence speaks back in its own time.