Evening shadows dance in the canopy of dreams.
Exhale slowly, counting the rings of time:
one echo, one dew, two whispers—
three eclipsed stories woven in the fiber of knowing.
When the moss grows vibrant beneath moon’s gaze,
listen to the trees arranging secrets like lost ships.
Follow the path of forest shadows.
The trees understood no language but that of silence and patience.
Can you trust their wisdom?