A gentle stream meanders through the mossy stones, Whispering secrets to the ancient pines. Silver fish dart beneath the crystal flow, Where water-weeds in emerald tangles twine. A lone heron stands still in shaded grace, Watching the dance of light on liquid glass. The mountains wear their cloaks of misty blue, Guarding this peace as silent hours pass. Yet in this stillness, life’s soft pulse remains— A timeless verse in nature’s vast domains.
