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It’s a moment suspended in time
their petals soft as whispers
it reminds you of the strength in stillness and the magic in the flow of time
of green things dreaming in the dark
Ever after
The Last Lantern small It’s a moment suspended inShe slips past the last lantern before it can claim her. The path is still behind her neat, expected, watched. Ahead, the trees close in, leaves catching what little light the moon is willing to give. It doesnt matter. She knows this way. Or maybe the way knows her. Branches tug lightly at her as she moves, not enough to stop her, just enough to notice. The air smells sharp and green, alive in a way the open paths never are. Somewhere deeper in the
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