"Grace emerges not in the ground we tread but in the spaces we dare to float."
In twilight's embrace, a figure drifts high,
A gown of whispers, tracing the sky.
Ghostly lights shimmer, weaving a spell,
Through periphery's dance, mysteries swell.
Amidst the trees, shadows learn to twine,
While sparkles of wonder thread through the pine.
Truth hangs like vapor, in realms of the near,
The echoes of presence that only hearts hear.
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