Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, An ancient oak relates a stream Of tales from ages long since past— Of love discovered, shadows cast. A traveler paused to hear its voice, And in that moment made a choice To leave behind the hurried lane And learn what stillness might contain. The wind carried a faint refrain, A melody of joy and pain, As stars above began to weave A truth that only hearts perceive. Now in these woods, if you should stray, You might still hear, at close of day, The echo ...

Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, An ancient oak relates a stream Of tales from ages long since past— Of love discovered, shadows cast. A traveler paused to hear its voice, And in that moment made a choice To leave behind the hurried lane And learn what stillness might contain. The wind carried a faint refrain, A melody of joy and pain, As stars above began to weave A truth that only hearts perceive. Now in these woods, if you should stray, You might still hear, at close of day, The echo ...