Across the chalky, dust-strewn stone,
The glass-spun watchers stand alone.
Transparent bones of clear design,
Aligned beneath a grand design.
They lift their gaze to cosmic deeps,
Where thought unspools and never sleeps—
A stellar mind of fire and lace,
That births the galaxies of space.
From neural spark to planetary ring,
The silent chorus starts to sing:
We are the lens through which it sees,
The stardust shaped by histories.
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Modell
perchance
Prompts
I'm sorry, forgot, those uploaded images did earlier, and prompts are lost...but there are some images here with the same prompt that I uploaded earlier...