Written on water emerges as a storm where symbolic and elemental worlds intertwine. Rain falls first, ancient, indifferent. Then, another sky unfolds.

Letters drift through space like seeds from burning libraries, spores scattered from forests of language. Characters descend gently yet inevitably, responding to both tangible and intangible gravities.

Time flows in cycles here. Dawn brings clarity to the falling script, whilst darkness allows the letters to emerge more luminously from the void. Each moment can be held still with a touch, freezing the precipitation mid-flight, capturing meaning before it dissolves.

Within this storm lies fragility and strength, visibility and absence, permanence and fleetingness. The echo of life mingles with whispers of unceremonious endings.

These glyphs hold eleven alphabets, bearing language in its truest form: scripts that write intimacy and estrangement, sanctuary and exile. Each symbol participates in every human movement toward connection and isolation. They fall like rain, nourishing and flooding in a single gesture, indifferent to all that thrives or perishes beneath.