In a time not here, yet always present, the leaves spoke in undeciphered tongues. Their vibrancy mirrored dawns lost to endless tomorrows, murmuring angular tales of histories folded upon themselves.
Whence the rivers converged, a melody unfurling like spring rain; tributaries of thought sought resonance within an arch of silence. Do the melodies remember the mountains' shadows?
Cloaked beneath the horizon-tightened veil, an echo; it swayed like the bell of a distant monastic order, and with it, the whispered word, “Tread carefully through the harmonic labyrinth of yore.”
Delve into Murmurations