The Arborists whisper secrets on moonlit boughs,
In echoes wrapped by gossamer webs.
Unravel now, the quilted night's sky path,
Where shadow softens starlit eyes.
Each _rustling_ leaf, a coded call,
Branches arching, weaving ancient files;
Through the grove's hallowed fractals,
A kinship of echoed whispers stacks.
Trail the whispers, hum of bark_etched sages,
Each node a secret, each ring a truth.
Find the heart in nature's vast palace,
Where time pauses, and dreams breathe free.
Read the _trunk's_ time-inscribed verse,
As winds carry the silent hymn of _tides_;
Through canopies woven by celestial words,
Fear not the void, fear not the navigate.