A gentle stream flows through the quiet wood, Its murmurs telling tales both old and good. It speaks of travelers from ages past, Whose dreams and hopes within its waves were cast. The water dances under moon’s soft gleam, Reflecting stars like fragments of a dream. It winds through valleys, kissed by morning dew, A timeless journey, ever fresh and new. Though stones may hinder, still it finds its way, To greet the ocean at the break of day. So may our hearts, like this persistent stream, Flo...
