The Murmurs of the Arboreal Realm
lies a voice, not of man, nor beast,
but of age itself, stretching lazily amongst the branches.
They say when the wind breathes through the pines,
the trees speak in sonorous tongues,
ancient scripts scrawled in the veins of each leaf.
Pause, one must, and lean in closely,
for understanding lies beneath the bark,
where whispers echo like forgotten lullabies.
In the hush of the wild, an owl hoots thrice,
each call a bead strung on a thread of silence.
Passerby hear nothing; they listen to the beat of their own drum.
But to those who tread lightly,
the rhythm unveils a hidden symphony,
notes etched in the rippling shadows.
can resonate with stories untold?
Its timbered heart beats in sync with the cosmos,
binding the terrestrial to the celestial, whispering secrets to those who dare to approach.
The forest floor, a canvas of forgotten legends—
A sinew between realms.
Listen, and you might hear it too:
a whisper on the wind, a sonorous call,
beckoning you deeper into its emerald embrace.
For those who wander here,
a path opens to Granite Echo
where stones too share their melodic stories.
Perhaps, the Feral Lullabies will resonate,
a dance of echoes through time's own corridors.