In the folds of stillness, whispers sing,
echoes of ancients upon the wind, twisting,
time's embrace gentle, a mother's sigh,
tender and lingering, forever apart.
Shadows flicker in candle glows,
murmurs trace upon skin like soft rain,
droplets remember the glow of moons,
converse gently with yearning grass.
Was it a dream when stars ansidered tales?
Lindens dance, whisper secrets of the heart,
from loop to knot, a song interlaces,
oh phantom touch, lead us unafraid.
Under the vast void of twinkling witness,
lays the alleys of time where footsteps were traced.
Again and again they mold a story,
a loop, a whisper—your name, her name, our name.
Seek the past not in the stories told,
but in threads spun in ether’s breath.
Here lies meaning, beyond reality's wake,
where echo wears eternity, the silence awake.
Wander freely: The Murmur of Shadows
Cross pathways: The Ancient Loop
More whispers: Echo of the Whisper