Crescent Dream

"When the tango of stars begins,
I feel the echoes of moon-borne whispers, like birds drafting in the night breeze,"
said an echo that never left the shadows.

"Do you ever ponder,
the eyebrows of dawn grazing the horizon,
knitting thermals and whispers into reality's fabric?"

- Invoked the spirals as dust danced upon notions of gravity.

Soft shifts of enchanted pathways...