A babbling brook flows through the forest deep, Its gentle murmur lulling rocks to sleep. Silver fish dart ‘neath the moon’s soft gleam, Weaving through water like a fleeting dream. An old pine tree leans to hear its song, Whispering tales of seasons long gone. Petals float by on a journey unknown, Carrying secrets the wind has blown. Stars dip their light in the liquid night, Painting the currents with shimmering light. The stream flows on through time and space, A timeless path at a timeles...
