Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, An ancient pine recalls a stream Where laughing children once did play On some long-vanished summer’s day. Its needles murmur to the breeze Secrets known to roots and trees— How seasons turn and years take flight Beneath the same steadfast starlight. A traveler pauses in the shade, Hearing tales the branches made, And finds in nature’s quiet rhyme A bridge across the stream of time.

Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, An ancient pine recalls a stream Where laughing children once did play On some long-vanished summer’s day. Its needles murmur to the breeze Secrets known to roots and trees— How seasons turn and years take flight Beneath the same steadfast starlight. A traveler pauses in the shade, Hearing tales the branches made, And finds in nature’s quiet rhyme A bridge across the stream of time.