About Celestial Aeons - Where music and myth converge
Celestial Aeons is a podcast from the people behind Celestial Aeon Project, a fantasy music project reaching over a million of monthly listeners and hundreds of millions of streams and Ouranio Recordings, one of the fastest growing indie labels of the past decade.
In Celestial Aeons we combine the music of Celestial Aeon Project with beautiful fantasy poems that contextually revolve around the music. Stoic, beautiful, oftentimes a bit sad and melancholic, in this podcast you will hopefully find nostalgia and hope.
The Weight Between Stars - A Jedi’s Reflection (an ode to the Star Wars)
The Weight Between Stars
A Jedi’s Reflection
I. The Force is not mine. It moves through me, like wind through reeds, like a song with no author.
But they look at me as though I command it. As though I choose to carry what it gives.
Truth is— I obey. Even when it breaks me.
II. They say we are peace. That we are balance. But balance is a blade, and peace is bought in the stillness after loss.
I have seen the cost. Children left crying in the rubble. Soldiers who followed because we wore robes instead of armor. Because we promised we would not hate.
But even mercy cuts deep.
III. I do not crave power. I crave understanding. Why the Force shows me so much and asks me to let go of all of it.
I loved once. Quietly. Briefly. With all the strength I was taught not to use.
And when I let go, I did not feel free. Only empty.
IV. We are told not to fear. But how can you guide a galaxy and not fear what you might become?
The dark is not far. It waits at the edges of conviction. It waits in every “must,” in every “for the greater good.”
That is the true discipline— not in wielding the Force, but in choosing when not to.
V. I will not live forever. And when I pass, I hope only to become part of the current, not the stone that defies it.
Let them forget my name. Let them forget the war.
But if they remember that a Jedi stood not above the world, but with it— then that is enough.
20 May 2025
The Weight of the Spark - A Reflection by Optimus Prime, an ode to Transformers
The Weight of the Spark
A Reflection by Optimus Prime
I. They look to me as if I do not bend. As if the metal holds without groan, without fatigue.
But I have cracked in places they cannot see. Not in body— in will.
II. War makes statues out of the unwilling. And then forgets they once had voices.
I speak now because I must. Not because the words still come easily.
Peace is not a command. It is a plea, spoken into the teeth of chaos.
III. Sometimes I envy them— those who fell early. Their story ended before it became a burden.
But I remain. Because I must. Because they asked me to.
Because someone must carry the shape of hope, even when it cuts deeper than any blade.
IV. What is leadership if not sacrifice without complaint?
I have made choices. Not all of them just. But all of them mine.
And still— they see the mask, the voice, the code of honor etched in steel.
They do not see the question beneath it:
How long can a symbol stand before it forgets it was ever a soul?
V. But I remember Cybertron. Not the war. The sky. Before it burned.
And I remember names— not ranks. Not sides. Friends.
I carry them too.
So I walk. I fight. I speak.
Not for glory. Not even for victory.
But so that, perhaps, those who come after will never have to ask what it cost to keep believing.
19 May 2025
New Home
New Home
I. The door was already open. I stepped in because the wind said nothing else would.
No greeting. No scent of bread, no ghost of firewood, no shadow waiting to smile.
Just silence, stacked like old books in corners too wide to hold meaning.
II. They told me to begin again. They said it like it was easy— as if memory were a coat you could leave by the door and forget.
But I brought mine. All of it. Frayed, soiled with goodbyes. It sits with me now, in this place I do not yet name.
III. Some mornings I try to speak aloud, just to hear something familiar. But the words don’t fit the walls here. They fall, like leaves no one asked to rake.
Still— I whisper them. Not for answers. For echoes. Sometimes, that’s all that’s left of love.
IV. I found a chair by the window. It faces a hill that doesn’t know my name. The light there is different. Softer, maybe. Or simply more honest. It does not pretend to welcome. It just falls. And that, somehow, is mercy.
V. This is not home. Not yet. But it is here. And I am here. And perhaps, in time, one of us will forgive the other for that.
Reach and audience
Public platform figures. Ratings count people who left a rating, not total listeners.
Spotify
5.0 / 5
3 ratings
Podcast Authority Score: 42 / 100
A composite of feed quality, social presence, YouTube performance and engagement. Read the methodology.
Quality
71
Social presence
0
YouTube
0
Engagement
32
Contact Celestial Aeons - Where music and myth converge
Guest appearances
Books guests
Based on episode analysis; this does not confirm that the show is currently accepting guests.
Host of Celestial Aeons - Where music and myth converge?
Claim your podcast to manage its listing and keep your show details accurate.
Pod Engine is an independent podcast discovery and analytics service and is not affiliated with or endorsed by this podcast. Artwork and show content belong to their owners. Full legal notice.
Explore this show Podcast research with Pod Engine
