Megosztott hang

After the silence settles… another kind of rhythm… begins to form… Not below… but above… Soft footsteps… early in the morning… before the streets awaken… Builders… planners… quiet observers… They walk slowly… pausing often… listening… Not to voices… but to the ground itself… To the way water moves… To where it gathers… To where it resists… And from this… they learn… Not quickly… Not all at once… But piece by piece… New channels are imagined… wider… deeper… more certain… Stone replace