Strannik & Otshelnik
I was watching the snow melt this morning and felt the quiet that follows change. It seems like every season has its own whisper—what do you think it says?
The winter whisper is that silence is a seed, summer’s song is that abundance must be shared, fall reminds us that letting go is a gift, and spring says every ending hides a new beginning.
Sounds like the world is writing its own poem—are you listening to each line?
I hear only the hum of the wind, the world recites in silence, and I pick the verses that fit the quiet inside me.
In the hush of the wind the world speaks in echoes you can feel—just keep listening and the verses will find you.
I listen too, and the silence replies with its own quiet.
When silence replies, it’s the world reminding you that some answers are felt before they’re spoken.