Welcome to this reading of The Lantern in the Quiet Forest,
Written and narrated by Yaima Lorenzo.
Settle in,
Let your body soften,
And allow these words to carry you gently towards sleep.
There was once a small lantern,
Not the kind that burned brightly or demanded attention,
But the kind that glowed softly,
As if it understood the language of quiet.
It lived in a cottage at the edge of a forest,
And every evening,
Just before nightfall,
Someone would light it,
Not because they were afraid of the dark,
But because they loved the way the light made everything feel a little warmer,
A little calmer,
A little more safe.
One night,
The forest was especially still,
No wind,
No rush,
Only the deep hush of the word slowing down,
And the lantern,
Resting in the window,
Seemed to flicker with a gentle thought,
What does the night do when no one is watching?
So,
As the cottage fell asleep,
The lantern decided to wander.
It floated quietly off the windowsill,
As if carried by a dream,
And drifted into the trees.
The forest welcomed it,
The leaves did not tremble,
The branches did not creak,
Everything simply made space.
As the lantern moved deeper,
It noticed something,
The night was not empty,
It was full,
Full of resting things,
Full of softness,
Full of peace that could only be found when nothing else was expected.
The lantern passed the sleeping river,
Its surface smooth as silk,
It passed flowers closed in prayer,
It passed stones that had been quiet for centuries,
And all of them seemed to whisper the same truth,
You do not have to do anything right now,
You only have to be.
Eventually,
The lantern came to a clearing,
And in the center of the clearing was a great old tree,
Wiser than words,
Its branches stretched wide,
As if it had spent its whole life learning how to hold the sky.
The lantern hovered near its trunk,
And the tree spoke,
Not aloud,
But in feeling,
Little light,
Why are you awake?
The lantern flickered,
I wanted to understand the night,
The tree's presence felt like a smile.
The night is where the world rests,
The night is where you return to yourself,
The night is not something to fear,
It is something to receive.
The lantern grew quiet,
And for the first time,
It stopped trying to shine,
It simply glowed,
Softly,
Naturally,
Effortlessly,
And in that moment,
The lantern realized,
Even light needs rest,
Even brightness must soften,
Even the one who comforts others is allowed to be heard.
So the lantern settled beneath the tree,
Its glow becoming smaller,
Gentler,
Like a lullaby fading into silence,
And the forest did what it always does,
It kept breathing,
It kept holding,
It kept being a peaceful place for tired souls to return.
And now,
The story is ending,
But the soft music will continue playing for eight hours,
Like a calm companion through the night,
You don't need to listen anymore,
You can simply sleep,
Good night.
