On the edges of the evening, when shadows become soft, find tranquility. Step lightly, for the path is woven between dreams.
The dew-kissed grass will guide your delicate steps; remember, each drop a distant star. Keep your eyes steady upon the moon, which sings its silent hymn.
The quiet brook hums—the enchanted stream of time past.
Listen carefully: the leaves tell stories of yesternight. They speak with feathers, and you must hear with your spirit's ear.
Meet these tranquil messages on their own terms, like a mother crooning to a sleeping child: in hushed tones we trust.
As you wander, perhaps you might feel the soft guidance of starlight tracing figures in your wake: navigate by celestial song if you must.