The Whispering Pines
Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, Where silent mountains guard the stream, A lone wolf howls to stars above, Echoing tales of timeless love. An ancient oak with branches wide Holds secrets it will never hide; Its leaves like pages turned by breeze Recount the sorrows of the trees. Two fireflies dance in twilight’s hue, Weaving dreams of morning dew, While distant bells from temples ring— The eternal song that seasons sing. Yet in the stillness, wisdom grows Like hidden roots where no one ...
The Whispering Pines
Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, Where silent mountains guard the stream, A lone wolf howls to stars above, Echoing tales of timeless love. An ancient oak with branches wide Holds secrets it will never hide; Its leaves like pages turned by breeze Recount the sorrows of the trees. Two fireflies dance in twilight’s hue, Weaving dreams of morning dew, While distant bells from temples ring— The eternal song that seasons sing. Yet in the stillness, wisdom grows Like hidden roots where no one ...
