The Whispering Pines
Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, An ancient pine forest stands in dream. Its needles murmur tales untold, Of winters harsh and summers gold. A traveler paused one starlit night, Hearing whispers in fading light. They spoke of love and courage vast, Echoes from a timeless past. Through rustling boughs, a truth took form— That every soul must weather storm, Yet find its strength in nature’s core, And walk in peace forevermore.
The Whispering Pines
Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, An ancient pine forest stands in dream. Its needles murmur tales untold, Of winters harsh and summers gold. A traveler paused one starlit night, Hearing whispers in fading light. They spoke of love and courage vast, Echoes from a timeless past. Through rustling boughs, a truth took form— That every soul must weather storm, Yet find its strength in nature’s core, And walk in peace forevermore.
