In a land where whispers dance,
Little Pumpernickel prances.
Among the shadows of the trees,
He hears the silence sing with ease.
Stars blink in Morse, a quiet code,
On this gentle, winding road.
The moon hums softly, a lullaby,
While clouds form notes in the sky.
If you listen closely, you might find,
Symphonies composed by the deaf and blind.
Curious, sweet, like honey's flow,
A secret song, for you to know.
Will you follow where tales lead?
Along the path where silence freed.
Echo will share the secret with you,
Or perhaps the Constellation too.