Dust begins to dance, dust does a little prance. Dust floats and spins, over and over, again and again.
"Once more, once more," says the Dust Bunny, hopping and flopping, a friend of the wind.
A spy in the corner, a secret in the sunlight, dust's dialogue is simple, silent stories of time.
Look closer, lean down. Whisper a secret. Dust hears everything yet tells nothing. Shh, it's telling.
Follow the Trail Echoes of Time Play with ShadowsRound and round, the cycle spins, in a loop, forever a friend of stillness, always a partner in silence.