In the quiet pause of morning,
I descend the spiral staircase,
each echoing sip—
a song of rebirth amidst
crystalline thoughts
woven in delicate dewdrop haze.
I dance upon the trembling leaf,
my universe a shimmer,
and listen to whispers of the world,
carried by the sigh of earth,
nurturing my cradle of mist.
As I greet the soil with soft laughter,
my heart finds refuge
in the tender embrace of roots,
sowing silver secrets
in the valley of dreams.
I am the gentle stroke of rain,
weaving through hidden paths,
where voices of the night
linger in vapor trails,
lost between heaven and earth.