The Silent Pond
A still pond rests under moon’s gentle gaze, Where fireflies dance in soft and hazy light. No wind disturbs the mirror’s perfect glaze, Reflecting stars that pierce the veil of night. An old frog waits upon a mossy stone, His ancient eyes have seen the seasons pass. He knows the world through rhythms deeply known, From morning sun to evening’s dewy grass. Once, children came to skip their stones with cheer, Their laughter rippling through the crystal air. Now silence holds this tranquil water...
The Silent Pond
A still pond rests under moon’s gentle gaze, Where fireflies dance in soft and hazy light. No wind disturbs the mirror’s perfect glaze, Reflecting stars that pierce the veil of night. An old frog waits upon a mossy stone, His ancient eyes have seen the seasons pass. He knows the world through rhythms deeply known, From morning sun to evening’s dewy grass. Once, children came to skip their stones with cheer, Their laughter rippling through the crystal air. Now silence holds this tranquil water...
