The earth hums beneath the waves,

its clouds carry the ancestors’ whispers.

It holds the footsteps of giants,

the ancient voices that still drift through the wind.

The deep forest glows with restless orbs,

echoes of the old spirits that roam unseen.

Stories flow like rivers,

endless, winding, and alive.

Moonlight drips through trembling leaves,

painting silver paths on hidden roots.

Wind whispers secrets in a language of stars,

and flowers bloom with the laughter of forgotten rains.

Mountains sway as if breathing,

their shadows curling around the dreams of the world.

Even stones pulse softly,

holding the quiet magic of centuries untold.