If you whisper in the middle of a gale, will anyone hear you?
Shout your truth into the modern world, and the wind still steals away your voice.
Only now, the wind is a digital gale—an endless scroll of noise and novelty.
Your words are carried off like dust across the algorithmic dunes,
buried beneath trends, updates, and the hum of everything else.
But if you write them down—
if you etch your truth onto a page, carve it into a story,
or anchor it in a letter to the future—
you perform a different kind of magic.
You create the possibility of discovery.
Perhaps not tomorrow.
Perhaps not for a hundred years.
Yet someday, a fellow traveller, wandering through their own desert of distraction,
will stumble upon your oasis.
They’ll pause, brush the algorithmic dust from your thoughts,
and in that quiet moment, their silence will break.
Your voice will bridge the chasm of time and attention to meet them.
They will feel less alone.
This is the quiet, relentless power of creation.
Not every message will go viral.
Not every truth will find its crowd.
But each one, once written, becomes part of the vast, hidden library of human experience—
a collection of echoes waiting for the right seeker,
in the right wilderness,
at the precise moment they are needed.
So do not shout into the feed.
Plant your words in the desert.
Let them wait for the one who will arrive,
read them,
and know—finally—
that they were never alone.
So write your words in the desert—
let them be the seeds of an oasis yet to be.
