Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, Where silent mountains guard the stream, A lonely pine begins to sing Of ancient dreams on weary wing. Two travelers pause amidst the snow, Their hearts still bearing summer’s glow. They speak of roads they left behind, Of shattered vows and love unkind. The elder pours some steaming tea, “Let winter’s chill set memories free. What seems an end is but a turn, New fires in the darkness burn.” The pines keep whispering through the night, Wrapping their trut...

Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, Where silent mountains guard the stream, A lonely pine begins to sing Of ancient dreams on weary wing. Two travelers pause amidst the snow, Their hearts still bearing summer’s glow. They speak of roads they left behind, Of shattered vows and love unkind. The elder pours some steaming tea, “Let winter’s chill set memories free. What seems an end is but a turn, New fires in the darkness burn.” The pines keep whispering through the night, Wrapping their trut...