The forest called me, in murmurs, in swirls of mist, As if the very trees held secrets, woven in fibrillation.
// Do you hear it? The echo of a whisper, a breath, a sigh, resting in the hollow of a seashell brought forth from sandy shores to cool hands.
Silent shadows embrace the boughs, a dance of moonlight and leaf, twirling shadows calling names not spoken in ages, The wind carries tales of lost tomes.
Wanderer, did you tread here before? What echoes follow your steps now, Or what silence engulfs you, Encased in nature's breath.