Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, Where silent mountains guard the stream, A lone pine whispers ancient tales Through rustling boughs and shifting gales. Once wandered there a scholar wise, With weary heart and heavy eyes, Who sought the voice within the wind— A truth that nature kept confined. He heard the pines recount the years: Of joy and sorrow, hopes and fears, How seasons change yet roots hold fast, How brief our light against the vast. And in that murmur, deep and low, He found th...

Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, Where silent mountains guard the stream, A lone pine whispers ancient tales Through rustling boughs and shifting gales. Once wandered there a scholar wise, With weary heart and heavy eyes, Who sought the voice within the wind— A truth that nature kept confined. He heard the pines recount the years: Of joy and sorrow, hopes and fears, How seasons change yet roots hold fast, How brief our light against the vast. And in that murmur, deep and low, He found th...