Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam,

An ancient pine recounts a dream

Of wandering winds and distant spheres,

Echoing through a thousand years.

A traveler paused to hear its tale—

How stars would dance and comets trail

Across the heavens’ vast design,

Weaving fate with threads divine.

The tree spoke of mountains old and deep,

Where timeless secrets lie asleep,

And rivers carrying in their flow

The whispered wisdom none may know.

Now only silence fills the night,

But those who listen with inner sight

Still hear the pine’s enduring rhyme—

A bridge across the bounds of time.

Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam,

An ancient pine recounts a dream

Of wandering winds and distant spheres,

Echoing through a thousand years.

A traveler paused to hear its tale—

How stars would dance and comets trail

Across the heavens’ vast design,

Weaving fate with threads divine.

The tree spoke of mountains old and deep,

Where timeless secrets lie asleep,

And rivers carrying in their flow

The whispered wisdom none may know.

Now only silence fills the night,

But those who listen with inner sight

Still hear the pine’s enduring rhyme—

A bridge across the bounds of time.