A tale unfolds by the silent stream, where an ancient willow’s branches gleam. It’s said that on nights when the moon is low, its leaves murmur secrets of long ago. A traveler once paused beneath its shade, weary and lost, his spirit dismayed. The tree whispered a verse from a forgotten song, guiding his heart to where he belonged. “Through shadows deep and winds that weep, Find strength in roots buried steep. For even in silence, wisdom grows, As the timeless river endlessly flows.” He rose ...
