Nothing announces itself as beginning. Nothing signals an end. What is present has no perimeter.

Awareness looks for an edge out of habit. Something to lean against. Something to orient by. There is none.

This is not vastness. Vastness would still imply scale. This has no measure.

Silence does not deepen here. It spreads until depth becomes irrelevant. Sound could appear and not interrupt it.

There is no tension asking to be resolved. No pressure demanding articulation. Only a steady absence of insistence.

The mind searches briefly for a way to enter. Then realizes there is nowhere else to be. The search dissolves without conclusion.

Nothing feels unfinished. Nothing feels complete. Those distinctions no longer apply.

This does not feel like peace. Peace would still contrast with disturbance. Here, contrast has thinned beyond usefulness.

Attention rests without settling. Movement could happen without departure. Stillness could happen without effort.

There is no center holding this together. No margin holding it apart. Everything touches without meeting.

Language arises reluctantly, not because something needs to be said, but because silence no longer needs defending.

Nothing resolves. Nothing accumulates. Nothing recedes.

And in the absence of edge, what is present does not require depth to be whole.