Improbable Paths

In the quiet folds of dusk,
whispers of winds unfurl,
tracing arcs of lost echoes,
where stars weave ancient yarns¹.

The lanterns hang low, weeping light,
over cobblestones kissed by rain,
each droplet a prism, a universe
tucked away in forgotten dreams².

Moths dance in a frenzy, a ballet of shadows,
delicate wings sipping sorrows,
while the moon hums a lullaby
for the untraveled wanderers³.

¹From "The Seven Songs of the Twilight Grove," Chanteri Eldar, 1892. A reclusive bard's musings on the celestial tapestry.

²In "Cobblestones and Echoes," Vol. II, Elysian Dreams Press, 1944. A description found in the margin of an abandoned library book.

³Excerpt from "Moonlit Lullabies," Anon. A collection of anonymous poems found in a mysterious box during a yard sale.