Wind Dancer, Heaven Caller

The needles of the ancient pine caress ever-darkening skies, until the chrysanthemum moon softly rises. The burnished light gilds the tips of glistening wings, raised to the heavens, poised for performance. Unruly blooms tangle and climb towards divine realms, their florid fingers curling heavenward. Slick, lacquered eyes glint like liquid in the metallic, selenian glow; these are immortal birds dancing to the rhythm of celestial music.