Dark & lovely: Fresh

Let the breeze wander freely through the branches and trembling leaves, weaving its path like an unseen dancer among the trees. Let it carry the breath of spring,soft and fragrant,beyond gardens, over rooftops, and into distant streets. In a place where feeling still sleeps beneath quiet shadows, every drifting scent becomes a tender memory of the breeze kissing the skin of wildflowers, as if the wind itself had learned the language of longing. May every whisper of wind fertilize the waiting clouds, so that the dried rivers may flow once again . . .