A babbling brook flows through the mossy stones, Whispering tales of forgotten forest thrones. Silver fish dart ‘neath the willow’s gentle shade, Where ancient secrets in the ripples fade. A traveler pauses, hearing the water’s song, A melody where all doubts belong. It sings of journeys under sun and moon, And promises of blossoms coming soon. The breeze carries notes of a distant chime, Echoing the gentle, relentless flow of time. In that moment, the world feels still and deep, As the brook...
