When the wind sings lullabies, watch closely for the shadows they cast. Beneath the marigolds, there's a secret yard that spins tales of dragons with candy winged dreams and they often forget their breath, lost in silken midnight songs.
Have you ever touched the echo of a cloud? Soft cotton whispering against your fingertips, but beware when you step upon a silver strand, for it may unravel your stories into threads of ancient webs. The kind the moon weaves when the sun isn't peeking.
Dream Bridge or Western Winds — both whisper nocturnal chants that sting like melted honey on warm skin.
And the elephant in the room grins golden secrets, buried in pages of time where tides and whispers learned to dance. Do you hear the calling of adventures unseen? The rabbit hole is but a pebble's throw away from reality's door where echoes breathe.
A butterfly's tear can drown a forest, someone once told me. Silent storms awaiting to unfold among leaf red serenades, where sleep hides in the folds of forgotten promises. And rain taps like a curious complex musical note insisting we listen keenly.
Dive, you must, into the abyss of forgotten lullabies or perhaps into the depths of your hidden cavern, where the soft hum of eternity sparkles with madness. But remember, the creeks may run crimson when shadows play in emerald hues.