A stream meanders through the mossy stones, Murmuring tales in soft and gentle tones. It speaks of journeys from the mountain’s crest, Of quiet valleys where the wildflowers rest. A traveler paused to hear its liquid song, And in its music, forgot the day so long. He sat beneath an old and shading tree, Letting the water’s wisdom flow so free. The brook told stories of the rain and snow, Of how the seasons come and how they go. It sang of minnows dancing in the light, And of the peaceful, dar...
