The Dance of Whispering Plants

From heights unknown, I descend,

One drop amidst a boundless sea,

Cradled by wind, a gentle push,

Towards a tangle of green choreography.

With every plunge, a new embrace;

Petrichor perfume, a ballet unfurling,

Leaves sway like dancers, ethereal grace,

Rooted in soil, secrets unfurling.

Your whispers, oh emerald mothers!

Crimson with vibrance in the subtle quake,

Each gesture, a nod, a story uncovers,

A dialogue kindled, alive, awake.