Whispers in the Labyrinth of Dreams

Once there was a little whisper, a tiny bit of sound that floated and floated until it found itself in a maze of other whispery things, wandering around corners and curving under the soft twinkling stars that peeked through the misty pastel veil of dreams.

In this place, where hopscotch rules and colors dance, the whisper saw a door, just a tiny crack, and thought maybe, maybe it could slip inside where a million more whispers were playing hide and seek with the shadows of friendly giants.

And the whisper was happy because it liked the way the echoes sang back, telling stories of gardens where flowers could talk and trees wore hats made of clouds, all while the stars twinkle-twinkle, winking with secrets only the whispers know.

So if you ever find a whisper on the windy road, help it find its way home to the labyrinth where it can dance with stars and play among the talking flowers in a game of peek-a-boo with the sunbeams.