Do you hear the whispers of the forgotten trees,
their roots tangled in the fabric of stars?
They speak in colors unseen,
painting stories on the edge of dreams.

Shadows stretch and yawn,
a symphony of forms in the twilight mist.
Listen closely, and you might find,
a melody playing beneath the flurry of stars.

Follow the echo,
chase the light,
or perhaps, linger in the silhouette of your own making.