Engraved on the bark of midnight ferns,
an errant breeze carries tales of symbiotic yearning.
In the flicker of flickering leaves,
words are spoken - entwined in root and twig,
a sonnet of spiraling growth, a mosaic of silent specters.

The oak whispers fortitude,
as the willows weep soft lullabies.
Love, caught between windswept dreams,
blooms in the shade of ancient trunks,
a lingering fragrance of moss-kissed dusk.

Can you hear the murmurs,
encrypted beneath layers of bark and mystery?
They beckon like falling seed-pods,
destined to nestle in the embrace of the earth,
forging destinies where time bleeds green.