The arcane tree, with ancient roots,
Draped in mystery and twilight’s hue,
Held secrets in its gnarled branches,
A universe in each leaf’s dew.
Its whispering boughs recounted stars,
Eclipses lost to time’s embrace,
Through ages past and futures scarred,
The arcane tree revealed a sacred space.
Beneath its boughs, the weary found
A refuge from the world’s loud cries;
Where thoughts were stilled, and dreams unwound,
And pondered truths ascended skies.
In its shade, ethereal dreams
Found echoes of the cosmos’ edge,
Where space and time were merged, refined,
In the abyss of the universe.
The tree’s deep roots, like ancient veins,
Stretched through realms unseen by sight,
Revealed secrets, primal strains
Of cosmic mysteries and boundless night.
The arcane tree, in silence grand,
Bore witness to eternal change,
Its branches reached across time’s span,
Where stars and shadows danced in range.
From whispered tales of distant spheres
To secrets draped in midnight’s shroud,
It held the wisdom of the shadows,
In stillness, pure and deeply proud.
Each leaf was a fragment of the whole,
A tale inscribed in the darkest night,
Revealing glimpses of dreams and visions,
Where mystic realms and fantasy unite.
The arcane tree stood timeless, wise,
A beacon in the twilight’s gleam,
A guide to realms where cryptic lore lay,
And nightmares transcended dreams.
It sheltered ancient memories,
Of celestial wonders and fears,
And every rustle in its leaves
Spoke of long-forgotten spheres.
The ancient bark, rough-hewn and scarred,
Whispered tales of nightmares’ embrace,
Memories of folly and joy,
In moments lost, in endless space.
The arcane tree stood ethereal, sage,
A glimmer in the twilight’s gleam,
A portal to realms where the impossible lay,
And dreams transcended reality.
In its embrace, the world grew dim,
Lost in the vast, eternal sweep,
Where ancient mysteries lured
And revealed secrets softly seeped.
A relic of forgotten epochs,
Guarded realms, both seen and veiled,
A reminder of stories untold
In the shadow of profundity where light had failed.
Every rustling leaf, a tale revealed,
Every branch, a journey uncharted,
The arcane tree, in its ancient world,
Held truths that time had overthrown.
Beneath its canopy, ghostly wanderers paused
To seek the wisdom of the past,
In every knot and ancient flaw,
A universe of supreme silence cast.
The nights prolonged, and the moon
Draped silver sparkles on its form,
The arcane tree, a timeless rune,
Guarded through each raging storm.
Its presence lingered in the dark,
A symbol of the endless quest,
A silent guide, an ancient mark,
In shadows deep where dreams found rest.
Esther Elizabeth Racah
