Phoenix feathers art-stories and tales

Winter’s Whisper The longest night, the year’s still heart, Where ancient shadows weave their art. The stars spill silver, crisp and clear, A promise whispers: light draws near. The earth in slumber, cold and deep, Holds secrets in its icy keep. But in the hush, the roots take hold, And dreams of spring begin to unfold. Candles flicker, warmth we share, In the chill, we find our care. A turning wheel, the sun's return, Through the dark, new fire will burn. So let us honor this sacred night, The quiet beauty, the soft moonlight. For even in the depths of frost, Hope endures, and nothing’s lost.

The tale of Mossfoot In a snug burrow nestled beneath the grasses of a quiet meadow, Mossfoot, a tiny cottontail rabbit, was huddled with his siblings- Bramble, Thistlewhisk, Willowhop, Nettle and Dewdrop.  Outside, a crisp spring breeze carried the scent of blooming wildflowers, the sunlight filtered through the grass, casting dappled patterns on the burrow floor. Their mother had ventured out at dawn to gather food, leaving the young ones with strict instructions to stay hidden. Mossfoot’s siblings dozed contentedly, but Mossfoot himself was restless. He twitched his tiny nose and peeked out of the burrow entrance, longing to see the world beyond. That’s when a slight figure appeared—Ember, the small copper butterfly faerie. Ember's wings glowed like the burning embers of a fire on a frosty night. She had taken it upon herself to watch over the young rabbits whenever their mother was away, flitting silently from shadow to shadow, ensuring no harm came to them. Today, ...