In the barkal excellence of time, echoes of winds whispering...
"Do you hear the roots as they quest beneath the soil, seeking the heart of the planet?"
Signals ricochet off branches, in the crevices of leaves, lies a truth concealed.
"Once, we touched the stars, or so the sapling dreams..."
Starlit shadows cast upon the earth by a celestial dance, the oak stands sentinel, memory veiled in bark.
"A message from yesterday's dawn speaks of forgotten forests..."
Lost transmissions emerge sporadically like echoes in a canyon, trembling as it cascades through the heart of an ancient crown.
"We are the murmurs of a time untold, the whispers of the old earth's soul..."
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