Campfire Tales

The fire crackles, whispers low. A circle forms where shadows grow. The stars above,

they softly glow. We lean in close to hear their song.

A thousand years, it won't feel long. We remember, we remember,

under stars that shine forever. We remember, we remember, stories weave the

night, together. The elders speak, their voices deep. Of rivers wide

and mountains steep, of dreams that woke and dreams that sleep. The wood flute

calls- Ah. -the sky to sway. The night leans in,

it won't drift away. We remember, we remember, under stars that