THE SKY SPOKE FIRST🌿☁️
The sky spoke first —
Not in thunder, but in sighs,
Soft little whispers between the clouds,
Like secrets it told the trees at night.
The leaves nodded back,
Wearing sunlight like old jewelry,
Dancing with the kind of joy
Only wind understands.
The river was in a rush (as always),
But she hummed a song anyway,
One she sings just for the stones —
And maybe for anyone who listens long enough.
I once asked the earth,
"Do you ever get tired of holding us all?"
She laughed —
And it sounded like wildflowers blooming.
Birds stitched mornings with their wings,
Stars pinned lullabies to the dark,
And somewhere in it all,
I learned that quiet can be loud too.
Nature doesn’t shout.
It simply stays —
Wild, kind, untamed,
And just a little bit like me.
![Werewolf Hollow [GALATEA DATE TBA]](https://cdn-gcs.inkitt.com/vertical_storycovers/ipad_76bbf380fa2e8dc2f70694197487ab81.jpg)
