The roots linger not beneath the soil, but within the fabric of twilight whispers.
A faint signal: it trembles through celestial veins, seeking resonance in forgotten constellations.
Do trees dream of vertical horizons, where the sky meets the untouchable earth?
Listen:
the stars are silent messengers, carrying tales of ancients who wove galaxies with their fingers.
Navigate the cosmos with roots of sound:
In the end, every whisper becomes a seed of
universal silence.