Mountains breathe in pastel silence.
Cold holds a trace of warmth.
Dawn arrives without footsteps.
Mountains breathe in pastel silence.
Cold holds a trace of warmth.
Dawn arrives without footsteps.
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Carved gods whisper through stone.
Light falls where centuries broke.
Silence walks beside the living.
Carved gods whisper through stone.
Light falls where centuries broke.
Silence walks beside the living.
as if listening.
Blue deepens into quiet.
The city softens its edges,
and one window keeps its promise—
a square of warmth
against the cooling night.
Nothing moves.
Nothing needs to.
Light stays.
The moon stays.
And somewhere between them,
the evening learns how to rest.
as if listening.
Blue deepens into quiet.
The city softens its edges,
and one window keeps its promise—
a square of warmth
against the cooling night.
Nothing moves.
Nothing needs to.
Light stays.
The moon stays.
And somewhere between them,
the evening learns how to rest.
Boats drift like slow thoughts on the water.
Somewhere, a glass is set down, a window left open.
The night hums softly—
not silent, just unhurried,
as if the sea itself is listening.
Boats drift like slow thoughts on the water.
Somewhere, a glass is set down, a window left open.
The night hums softly—
not silent, just unhurried,
as if the sea itself is listening.
2000-2005년 즈음의 얘기인데 그때 제주도 시골에선 가로등도 없는 곳도 있어서 사람들이 횃불을 들고 다녔고,
…우리 제주도 그 정돈 아닙니다😑
2000-2005년 즈음의 얘기인데 그때 제주도 시골에선 가로등도 없는 곳도 있어서 사람들이 횃불을 들고 다녔고,
…우리 제주도 그 정돈 아닙니다😑