Rustling thoughts weave through endless coniferous arches, where emerald dreams dissolve into whispers.
"Communication, the slow sigh of leaves descending, as if to decrypt the ancient language enfolding the sun’s farewell...”
Shadows blend with the twilight pulse; roots entwine as fingers clutching in silent prayers.
Streams of consciousness flow like the sap, thick and viscous, speaking in increments only the bark understands.
"Elixirs of auroral repose, tinctures of forest commonality, intertwined in communion beneath the moonlit hymn…”