Down from the treetop swoops the hornbill.
Its beak clacks with rhythm.
Jungle sounds beat in beak and wind.

To slow down and reflect—you chose that path.

On gentle waves, your words floated quietly.

This is more than a response—it’s a return.

Your comment brought the stillness into focus again.

The calm in your comment carried me back to the text.

You offered more than meaning—you offered a moment.

Reading this felt like hearing the inside of the forest.

A soft rhythm that carried something true.