In the sky, stars giggle.
They tell stories, like sleepy tales curling around the moon’s smile.
Each star is a dot of magic,
whispering secrets to gentle winds.
"Why do you shine, little star?" a butterfly asks.
"Because I can, and because you must remember to fly free," the star twinkles back.
Underneath the tree, where moss carpets soft hearts,
reflections wander.
Mirrored puddles of thoughts dance in tiny ripples.
Every heartbeat is a step,
every breath a whisper,
in the infinite hug of the universe.
Keep looking up, little dreamer;
the stars have stories only you can hear.
Follow the paths of light elsewhere, or here.
Both places hide whispers waiting to be found.