Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, Where silent mountains guard the stream, A lonely pine begins to sing Of ancient dreams on feathered wing. Two travelers pause in twilight’s hue To hear the tale both old and new— How love once carved in bark now gone Outlasted empires stone by stone. They sit till stars adorn the night, Finding in nature’s whispered light That human hearts, though brief as dew, Still touch the eternal and true.
