We are its dream for an instant: stardust remembering itself.
Look up. You are not looking at it — you are the cosmos looking back at itself, awake for a blink between two eternities. cosmors
It could be a typo or a creative term.
In the cathedral of night, no roof but scattered light — galaxies spiral like breath from the mouth of silence. We are its dream for an instant: stardust remembering itself
The cosmos does not speak in our small words, yet every atom hums the same original song. cosmors