In the valley's clandestine embrace, where whispers of the stream braided solace with solitude,
there lay eternities obliged to speak only in echoes — a murmur here, a silence there...
Above them, the Gothic arches of ancient willows took attendance, their roots binding spectral threads of soil and sky.
It is whispered that those who venture too near to such murmurings
find the streams speak not in crystalline tongues but in velvet shadows and transcendent silences.
temples/crossroads_embers.html