When the Forest Breathes

When the Forest Breathes

When the forest breathes,

the world forgets to speak.

Not out of fear...

but out of reverence.

Each tree... exhales memory.

Each breeze... carries wisdom.

The leaves don’t rustle,

they whisper—

tales of time

and twilight.

Moss grows not just on stone,

but on stories, left behind.

Footsteps fade faster here,

because this place... walks with you.

The owls don’t ask questions,

they offer riddles.

The creek doesn't babble—

it sings lullabies,

to roots

that remember rain.

Sunlight filters in slow,

like a secret being told—

a hush of gold

across the quiet floor.

And when night arrives,

it does not fall...

it settles—

soft and certain,

like a shawl upon shoulders

worn from wondering.

If you listen—

not with ears, but with breath...

you’ll hear the forest sigh,

a sound older than stars.

And you'll know…

you are not lost here.

You are part of the hush.

You are part of the breath.