A gentle stream meanders through the mossy stones, Whispering ancient tales in soft, watery tones. Beneath the willow’s shade, where sunlight barely breaks, A lonely heron stands in the misty morning lakes. Wildflowers nod along the bank in hues of gold and blue, Keeping secrets of the world they’ve quietly watched through. The moon arrives to silver the waves with a dreamy gleam, As the water flows forever in a timeless, endless stream. Yet in its murmur, lessons clear and quietly deep: “Pea...
