Echoes in the Grove

Have you ever felt the hum of the trees, the way their whispers curl around thoughts not quite formed? Yet here they are: faint, flickering like a flame on the tip of consciousness. Perhaps a signal, lost in the twilight of perception, slipping like shadows through fingers of light. Somewhere, distant and ethereal, someone breathes echoes into the leaves, casting ripples of forgotten dreams. Memory: a word wrapped in starlight, alone in its orbit. Do you hear it? The quiet pulse beneath the bark's secretive gaze, vibrating with stories not yet lived? Beneath a sky woven from tendrils of night, an echo calls out, stretching vast as the silence between stars. A melody unseen, unheard, resonating through the veins of forgotten groves. Listen closely... or lose it to the ether.