A tale unfolds by the ancient stream, where silver willows bend and dream. Their leaves like brushes paint the sky, as gentle winds go whispering by. One tree remembers stories old—of lovers’ vows in moonlight bold, of children’s laughter, bright and clear, that echoed through the changing year. A wounded soldier once found grace beneath its shade, a hiding place. It sheltered birds through stormy nights, and calmed the world with soft green lights. Now travelers pause to touch its bark, and ...