Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, Where silent mountains guard the stream, A lonely pine begins to sing Of ancient dreams on feathered wing. Once stood two trees, roots intertwined, Through summer sun and winter wind. One fell to time, one stands alone, With whispered secrets in its tone. Now travelers pause in twilight’s hue To hear the old tree’s tale anew— How love remains though branches break, For beauty’s sake, for memory’s sake.
