In the land of soft whispers,
round things float under cotton candy skies.
They giggle like rain in puddles,
echoing stories from yesterday's sleep.
"Look at the sky, it talks," said the small voice.
"But it always talked," a wiser silence answered.
Memories in colors, just like crayons,
scribble upon the canvas of now.
When the sun yawns, shadows dance,
spinning tales of forgotten tomorrows.
Touch the bubble, see a world,
a reflection in a reflection, silly and true.
Join us in the endless loop,
where paths are like circles drawn in sand.
Water washes, but stories stay.
Follow the whispers.
And perhaps there, you'll see
a friend that was never met,
sharing a laugh with the breeze.
Chase the clouds.