Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, An ancient pine forest stands in dream. Its needles trace tales on the night, Of wandering souls and fading light. A traveler pauses, breath held still, As boughs weave wisdom old and deep. “Fear not the path you walk alone, For roots connect what seems unknown.” The wind carries the whispered lore— How stars and earth are evermore Entwined in cycles, vast and grand, Held gently in time’s open hand. No need to rush, the pines declare, Just breathe the tru...

Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, An ancient pine forest stands in dream. Its needles trace tales on the night, Of wandering souls and fading light. A traveler pauses, breath held still, As boughs weave wisdom old and deep. “Fear not the path you walk alone, For roots connect what seems unknown.” The wind carries the whispered lore— How stars and earth are evermore Entwined in cycles, vast and grand, Held gently in time’s open hand. No need to rush, the pines declare, Just breathe the tru...