Born from whispering clouds, I am
A silvery thread in the dusk-soaked realm, Spiraled and spun in gentle torrents, Joined the song of downpouring kin.
Plunge of purpose into the waiting soil,
A quest to reveal the sleeping roots, Grasping patiently beneath ancient canopies, Breathing life's dance in languid stretches.
Hear me speak through emphasised moments,
Of dew caressing wind-blown whispers,
And yourselves cradled within the sylvan cradle.