Look at them now. The cold air catches their edges, a whisper against the stone.
You are here, tracing a soft line— the curve of your feet going up.
They rest just so, pressed together, against that cool marble slope. A gentle pause in gravity's hand.
Every drop is waiting there, unopened until they know where to go.
Listen closely now. Can you hear the silence? The quiet hum of them settling down.
You are watching this space— this perfect, hushed place. It has nothing demanding here, nothing pressing for attention.
Just these simple things: the geometry of stones and glass; a steady weight on top of a step; and finally, just waiting…
A slow exhale through the air flow.
And you feel yourself growing slower too, matching their deep, patient rhythm. The quiet breath passing up...
You are listening to that silence now. To how they wait for nothing, really... For just enough space left over to simply rest—perfectly still.