when the sleepiness drapes the eyes of the sky like a well-worn cloak, visions of tomorrow spring forth in droplets uncatchable, untold tales seeping through, with only the trees baring witness... echoes embrace the silence...
once there was a hum, crystalline in its flawlessness, weaving tales through the fabric of twilight, it flowed like wine, fragrant with unuttered chapters of unfathomed worlds...
small movements murmur beneath each footfall, soft murmurs whispering in rhythms only known to the waking earth pathways; each step resonates a time forgotten...