The Whispering Pines
<The Whispering Pines> Beneath the moon's soft silver gleam, Where silent mountains guard the stream, A lonely pine begins to sing Of ancient dreams on feathered wing. Two travelers pause in twilight's hue To hear the tale both old and new— How stars once danced in midnight's sea And planted seeds of memory. Their footsteps fade into the dawn, But still the pine sings on and on, Its branches tracing in the air The rhythm of a cosmic prayer.
The Whispering Pines
<The Whispering Pines> Beneath the moon's soft silver gleam, Where silent mountains guard the stream, A lonely pine begins to sing Of ancient dreams on feathered wing. Two travelers pause in twilight's hue To hear the tale both old and new— How stars once danced in midnight's sea And planted seeds of memory. Their footsteps fade into the dawn, But still the pine sings on and on, Its branches tracing in the air The rhythm of a cosmic prayer.
The Whispering Pines
Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, An ancient pinewood tells a dream. Its needles weave a lullaby, As wandering breezes gently sigh. A traveler paused to hear its tale— Of mountain mist and winding trail, Where wisdom flows like hidden streams Through whispered sighs and silent dreams. One need not seek for distant lore; Just listen where tall timbers soar. For in each rustle, faint and deep, The forest’s timeless secrets keep.
The Whispering Pines
Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, An ancient pinewood tells a dream. Its needles weave a lullaby, As wandering breezes gently sigh. A traveler paused to hear its tale— Of mountain mist and winding trail, Where wisdom flows like hidden streams Through whispered sighs and silent dreams. One need not seek for distant lore; Just listen where tall timbers soar. For in each rustle, faint and deep, The forest’s timeless secrets keep.
