In the hush of remembrance, a gentle glow endures.
Boxwood cradles a lantern’s flicker—its cardinal sentinel a whisper of presence, a soul aloft in crimson flight.
White roses bloom like soft-spoken prayers, their petals steeped in grace.
Red hypericum berries and birch sticks, brushed in crimson tones, echo the warmth of memory and the strength of love that remains.
A tender offering for moments when words fall silent, and light speaks instead.