In a land where shadows dance with light,
And moonbeams paint the edge of night,
A traveler, soft as a whisper’s sound,
Walks the quiet paths where dreams are found.

His slippers, stitched from clouds so white,
Carry him through the velvet night.
A coat of stars, a cloak of sky,
He moves unseen, as time drifts by.

The trees, with leaves of silvered glow,
Sway to the winds that softly blow.
They hum a song, a secret tune,
That echoes under the sleepy moon.

Through meadows brushed in misty gray,
Where fireflies weave in soft ballet,
He treads the earth with gentle grace,
As magic stirs in every place.

The mountains rise, their peaks in dreams,
Bathed in the glow of moonlit beams.
The rivers hum with stories old,
Of adventures whispered, never told.

In fields of lavender, soft and wide,
He follows the moon with steady stride.
The flowers close their petals tight,
Preparing to rest within the night.

The owl’s soft hoot, the bat’s quick flight,
Guide him through the quiet light.
Above, the stars begin to weave,
A tapestry of dreams to believe.

Through valleys deep, where shadows creep,
He finds his way, though paths are steep.
Each step he takes, the night grows bright,
With every star that kisses the night.

And when the first light of dawn appears,
He feels the pull of distant years—
A soft tug from the waking world,
A place where dreams are gently swirled.

He finds his bed, so warm and deep,
Where soft winds sing him into sleep.
His eyes, like pools of endless sky,
Begin to close, as night says goodbye.

For in the quiet, soft and slow,
The dreams begin to softly flow.
Like rivers running, pure and true,
They take him to places known by few.

And in his heart, a story grows,
Of every dream that night bestows.
For in the world, so calm, so wide,
Every dreamer finds peace inside.

In the cradle of the darkened sky,
Where stars are born, and shadows fly,
The traveler rests, his journey done,
Until the next dream’s rising sun.