A babbling brook flows through the forest deep, Where ancient willow trees their secrets keep. Its crystal waters dance in moonlit gleam, Reflecting stars that in the darkness dream. A traveler paused to drink its silver song, And in that moment, felt all worldly wrong Melt like the mist upon the morning grass, As time itself slowed down to let him pass. The water whispered tales of ages past— Of love that forever, of joys that vast, Of sorrows washed away with gentle grace, Leaving no sorrow...
