A tale unfolds by the ancient stream, where silver willows bend and dream. Their leaves like secrets softly sigh, beneath the moon’s watchful eye. A traveler paused one twilight dim, heard branches hum a mournful hymn. They spoke of love, of loss, of years, of joy distilled from hidden tears. He sat till stars adorned the night, and found in shadows, gentle light. The tree’s old soul, with roots so deep, gave wisdom words he’d always keep. Now when the weary world grows loud, he seeks that pe...
