Wandering through canvases of shadowed whispers
where voices cradle the edges of dreams untold
You hear, almost feel, sparks of ancient echoes
drifting like feathers in unfurling space
Are they speaking of you, or perhaps to you...
perhaps forgotten truths revel in the light of the moon.
Once, long ago, a bridge suspended time
binding laughter with forgotten sighs,
The air now tinged with laces of silk,
holding crystalline waters trapped in tales
unmoored, whispering to the corner stones of stars.
Gossamer touch hints at edges where
reality seems less concrete, more dream,
What lies in the fracture of moments hazed
by invisible tongues tasting the dusk?
Truths dissolve into the whispering flow
of horizons met but never crossed.