The oaken tongue whispers of an ancient promise, wrapped beneath the barks...
Moss-covered intuition advocates a path unwalked, echoing in fibonacci whispers.
Consider the elm's nod when thunder recedes; it knows balance, a waltz in soft rain. Accept the pine's wisdom; absorb its scent lingering on syllables of truth. From trees, root-bound or thoughtful... the language forms in cryptographic leaves telling tales of balance and harmony.
The leaves negotiate the wind's mischief; learn their veiled secrets.
Return to the root's journey Follow the barked wisdom further