If I spoke in tremors of leaves, would you understand the songs of forgotten winds?
The echoes of a time when the sky wrote letters on the sand.
Each grain a whispered secret, each gust a forgotten chapter.
There's a language stilled beneath seashells,
Words once dipped in the ink of stars,
Erased syllables dancing over the pages of endless sky.
Listen: to the unsung harmonies etched across the horizon,
etched not in stone but in the liquid gold of dusk,
dancing in palimpsests of erased histories,
each pulse a reverie of winds uncorked, unbound.
Wander these forgotten paths:
the echoes of forgotten tongues await.
Unfurling Breezes
Tales in the Sand
Echoes in the Sea