Once upon a chassis of clouds, little ideas fluttered. Some danced, some dreamed. They wore hats of mist and boots of sunken whispers.
Along the pathway of pink marbles, secrets of ages chalked on paper were erased by rain. Left clinging to the breeze were stories of gardens unseen.
A rabbit of endless echoes hops by, leaving footsteps of silentertints that hum forgotten songs.
Underneath teapots verdant, a meadow speaks of floating clocks and aromatic whispers saying "what was this, what could this have been?"
Do you hear the melody of stardust below the willow's sigh? Or the giggles of thoughts drifting petals on a rippling pond's embrace?
Follow the hidden constellation