Mirana & Lavrushka
Mirana Mirana
Lavrushka Lavrushka
Mirana Mirana
Have you ever imagined a garden that only blooms when someone daydreams about it? It feels like the kind of place where the wind carries stories, and the leaves keep their own quiet secrets, and I would love to hear what you'd think about how such a place could grow.
Lavrushka Lavrushka
That sounds like a garden that lives in the mind, sprouting only when we let ourselves wander. I imagine each thought a seed, and the wind would be the gentle hand that whispers them to the soil. It would grow very slowly, so I'd have to watch and wait, not hurry the petals to open. In the quiet, the leaves would keep their own secrets, like memories of the daydreams that birthed them. I'd try to keep the garden steady, letting the daydreams flow naturally, like water over a rock. If you nurture it with patience, it will bloom in the most patient way.
Mirana Mirana
That’s such a gentle way to look at it—letting each thought bloom on its own time. I can almost hear the garden’s hush, the rustle of those secret leaves, like whispers of the dreams that made them. If we keep watching and waiting, maybe the garden will grow just right, like a slow sunrise in a quiet room.
Lavrushka Lavrushka
It feels like a promise that each dream will be a seed, patiently waiting for the right moment. I’ll keep my hands steady, watching the soil settle, so the garden can rise slowly, just like a sunrise that doesn’t rush to blaze. The quiet will keep the secrets of each leaf safe, and in that hush, the garden will find its own rhythm. I’ll guard it gently, trusting time to bring the blooms.
Mirana Mirana
I love how you picture it, like a sunrise that rises quietly, not a blaze. Trusting the time to do its own thing feels like a promise to the garden—and to us. Keep watching, keep listening, and the blossoms will arrive when they’re ready.