# The Moonlit River

By [Untitled](https://paragraph.com/@0x16f5e124cf1c8a7be5dc8692d97ccc2eb87248b2-2) · 2025-09-03

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A silver ribbon through the night it flows,

Past silent hills where sleeping blossom grows.

A lonely fisherman lights his tiny fire,

While distant temple bells chant from a spire.

The water holds the moon’s reflected grace,

And carries time to some far, hidden place.

Driftwood remembers journeys yet untold—

A thousand ancient stories, dark and old.

So still the world beneath the starry dome,

The river runs, but never leaves its home.

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*Originally published on [Untitled](https://paragraph.com/@0x16f5e124cf1c8a7be5dc8692d97ccc2eb87248b2-2/the-moonlit-river)*