Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, Where silent waters gently stream, A lonely pine stands tall and deep, Guarding secrets all forests keep. Its needles murmur ancient tales Of mountain winds and winding trails, Of stars that watched through ages past How human sorrows came to last. A traveler once in twilight’s hue Heard whispers in the evening dew, The tree recalled in rustling tone How seeds of kindness once were sown. Now every breeze that passes through Bears fragments of what nature ...
