A stream meanders through the mossy stones, Murmuring tales in soft and gentle tones. It speaks of journeys from the mountain high, Beneath the vast and ever-changing sky. A deer once came to drink its waters clear, And saw its reflection without a fear. The water showed the world both near and far, The twinkling stars, the moon, a single star. It flowed through valleys, by the willow trees, Carried on every whisper of the breeze. The brook knows stories of both joy and strife, The endless fl...
