In the cradle of dreams, the moon hung low,
casting silver webs across silent streams,

Across the meadow, a lone robin sings,
tales of yesteryears and stardust,

An echo forms a bridge of whispers,
in shadows, footsteps of those before us.

Misty dawns cradle secrets untold,
a garden where the clocks have forgotten.

Nestled amidst the clouds, a portal awaits,
the whispered promises of tomorrow.

Through the portal's rim, the stars align,
a symphony of celestial dance.