Beneath the veil where shadows stir,
where whispers weave and visions blur,
a tree stands vast, its branches wide—
a gateway to the worlds inside.

Its roots stretch deep through colored space,
where thought and light entwine in grace,
where echoes hum in spectral hue,
and silence sings the self anew.

A pulse that rises from the ground,
a knowing force, a truth profound.
Each leaf a thought, each shade a dream,
flowing in the endless stream.

A dance of dark, a touch of light,
the realms converge, the minds ignite.
A voice within, both vast and near—
unfolding all we’ve yet to hear.

To step within, to touch the air,
to become the colors hanging there.
The self expands, the soul takes flight—
the roots of consciousness burn bright.

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