Among the sable fragrance of hoary barks, they gather...
Whispering Leaves | Murmur Retreat | Untitled Path
With loquacious echoes that resonate like the rustling of ancient cedars—
Verbal veils mask the unending confluence: they speak, yet not in words
With bows entwined, silently, in the conduit of paths long veiled by shadows
Descending into incantations, only understood by roots and soil feet:
Listen close, for even shadows sing when spoken through time-twined branches