In secret gardens, the stars hum songs of forgotten bees.
Hieroglyphs paint tales upon the dew, where moonlight meets the snooze of morning.
Each ripple tells the giggle of a pebble, lost and found again.
Who speaks the language of the rainbows? Not the clouds, but the faeries who dance in the amber dust.
Cobwebs of tones and tunes, a harp of whispers it's formed. Listen, and hear the colors speak!
A silent flight on butterfly wings, touching tales of lands afar.
Discover Distant Echoes Clandestine Beats Fables in the Wind