Log of the Old Forest: Whispering winds through grooves, ensnared within my core, echoes of sunlight captured, tales of the ancient bore.
Within the secret hollows, where bugs converse in code, I harbor hidden stories, of travelers on the road.
Sunflower Tall and Proud: My roots tickle the soil, while I dance under stars, in the dark of moonlight, I unlock my memoirs.
Sorrowful stems bend, where whispers fall, confessions of daylight, penned in petals' thrall.
The venerable log sighs, "I saw the child’s laughter," duty of timekeeper, my rings tell the tale after."
And the sunflower replies, "I’ve hidden woes in my seed, secrets of love whispered, in your barks I'd read."
Venture into the whispers: Secrets of the Wood
Listen further to the blooms: Sunflower’s Confession