Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, An ancient oak recalls a stream That sang of journeys yet untold, Through valleys deep in shades of gold. A traveler paused where shadows weave, And heard the tales the leaves would leave— Of dragonflies on reeds that swayed, And dreams in twilight gently laid. The wind carried a faint refrain Of distant bells after the rain, Echoing through the silent wood Where mystic understandings stood. He lingered there till stars grew dim, Learning the forest’s sec...
