Somewhere, under the giggling trees, the hiccuping breeze tells tales to the moon. Long, stretching stories with tickles and whispers. Dancing shadows join the fun among the buzzing stars.
Little whispers become big. They leap and tumble, like lightningbugs, winking in circlings around dreaming hearts. Eyes half-closed, they chase the clouds that sail on a gentle, sleepy sea.
Do you hear it? The treehouse's secrets plastered into the sky with smiles enough to paint a rainbow. They hum like a lullaby, swaying on a cool, fluffy breeze only the stars know how to ride.
Can you see? The whispers are pink today, a shade of giggle bubbling under quiet skies. They tickle the sun, spiraling dances through. The warm hug of simple wonders, where waterdrops play the piano on leaves.