The Whisper of Ancient Boughs

Unseen roots converse beneath the earth,
Canopy speak: a language without charts.
Listen, humble seeker: harmony in whispers.

Woodwide wisdom articulates the winds;
Constellation growth rings encipher strength
In silent balance: seeking yet contained.

The bark-maze of existence reveals its secrets
To those who lean into the gentle sway—
Find sway, find stillness, find you.