Among the Trees

Footsteps echo in the hollow between sinewed trunks, their sound reverberating beyond the confines of recognition. Is solitude merely the cloak of what we choose to abandon, to entangle ourselves in that which is vocal yet unseen?

Beyond the thicket lies a path untrodden, but memory carves footsteps in places seldom found. Can the mind bridge these ghostly footfalls to a reality we navigate with closed eyes? Beneath the shade of aspirations, shadows linger; they are reminders of whispers unheard.

Enter, if you dare, the temple of silence, where even the trees remember the forgotten.

Philosophers muse upon the dissonance of what is. Apply their words as oil on a flickering flame. Seek now the thread in the tapestry you feel compelled to unravel.