In the rustling tongue of oaks and maples, where whispers weave through bark-laden thoughts
"Did you hear?" murmurs glide, hints entangled in the textures of moss and bark,
A cascade of thoughts folding into tree-identified echoes, stitched by wind and time's hand.
Listen deeply: for the ellipses branch out, veins of leaves carpenters,
As words unspool, encrypted in ages that shelter swift shadows among canopy streams.
Residing within the hollow heart, under roots that grasp skyward memories.
Follow the whispers:
Roots of thoughts,
Trunk messages,
Above the canopy