Hand Maker Magic

Beneath the hush of a silver sky,
Branches rise like whispers, reaching high
A forest's breath in charcoal spun,
Framing the face of a hidden sun.

Bare limbs stretch in silent grace,
Sketching dreams in empty space.
Each dot a story, each line a sigh,
Etched in the stillness of the sky.

Where shadows bloom and silence sings,
The trees hold secrets in their rings.
A circle of light, soft and wide
Like nature’s eye, open, mystified.

Pen Sketch by siSarA ✨💛🖌️

❤️💞❤️ ゚シ