Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, An ancient pine forest stands in dream. Its needles murmur tales untold, Of winters harsh and summers gold. A traveler paused one starlit night, Hearing whispers in fading light. They spoke of love and courage vast, Echoes from a timeless past. Through rustling boughs, a truth took flight— Some mysteries need no daylight. In nature’s quiet, we may find The quiet wisdom of mankind.
