Where whispers plant shadows beneath the starlit dew,
And memories cultivate silence in patinas of dusk.
Breath by breath, the earth exhales poetry unraveled,
Anchored in the hidden cadence of wanderers' steps.
In the heart of the fractured garden, all dances in synchronization,
A delicate ballet between the unfurling leaves and the sighs
of the jaded moon. Time, here, forgets its intent,
Remiss in lapsing breaths between fleeting echoes.
The roots of yesterday's laughter intertwine,
Threading stories through soils softened by the rains of past tomorrows.
Can you hear the soundless songs?
The resonances of forgotten springtides?
Follow the whispers—they sway like woven threads in an unseen loom,
Crafting constellations of shadows under the gentle brush of time.