Upon silver tracks, in moments held in suspense

Upon silver tracks, in moments held in suspense, Gentle steps of angels are faintly heard, idly interlaced. The vault of heaven quivers in translucent azure; Through the eternities creeps a divine murmur, cold and alive. The pure echo of the evening mingles with the sunset, With the shadowed blue, that in the wing of night vibrates and rises. The earth's labors lose themselves in a deep abyss, And ethereal slumbers spread over meadows and frost. In their stead, remains the alluring song of mystery, Weaving its game through spaces, a secretive enigmatic wave. From abstractions unfurl indefinite contours, Like shadows of dreams, on the trails of cherished, holy days. The stars, candelabra settled in the celestial decor, Ignite in the night, reflecting the ancient corner of ray. Whispered, the flow of hours weaves the threads of destiny, Thoughts, like monks in candles, knitting their quiet chants. Embracing infinity with a beam that pulsates discreetly, Lighting up caverns of the soul, another secret universe. A river of stars murmurs under the arch, an ancient stream carrying, To lands unwritten where times of silver are forged, growing. And when night unfurls its veil, an astral map envelops, Revealing evermore depths, winter dreaming, time without bound in divine grace.