Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, An ancient pine recounts a dream Of whispered tales through rustling boughs, Where time herself briefly allows A mortal ear to comprehend What winds and roots together blend. Two travelers on a dusty road, Beneath the tree their rest bestowed, Heard voices in the evening breeze— Not quite the sound of swaying trees, But echoes of a long-lost song That through the branches swept along. They spoke of love that never died, Of promises kept deep inside, Of ba...

Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, An ancient pine recounts a dream Of whispered tales through rustling boughs, Where time herself briefly allows A mortal ear to comprehend What winds and roots together blend. Two travelers on a dusty road, Beneath the tree their rest bestowed, Heard voices in the evening breeze— Not quite the sound of swaying trees, But echoes of a long-lost song That through the branches swept along. They spoke of love that never died, Of promises kept deep inside, Of ba...