The whispers are like ribbons entwined in a gentle breeze, secrets of yesteryear floating past, both tender and elusive.
Have you heard the trees chattering? Roots submerging deep into tales hidden from those who only blink just above the surface. Imagine, just imagine, energetic whispers leaking through crackling bark to resonate within your own curious heart.
And the shadows play: patterns weaving that clouded paradigm where truths embody shadows shapes — transient illusions. A reminder of momentary time, passing breezes spoken into existence, like a forethought caught too easily in breath’s quiet cascade.
The echoes of past revelations knock gently at the door, offering options to embark on invisible paths. And as you linger amongst sylvan towers, take a second to inhale the symphonic murmur of leaves
Listen deeper...