A silver ribbon winds through sleeping hills, Where cold stars dance on liquid, swirling light. A lonely fisher’s boat the silence fills, His lantern like a fallen star so bright. He casts his net where moonbeams softly gleam, And catches dreams within the watery deep. The world lies hushed, a half-forgotten dream, While mountains guard the secrets that they keep. No words are spoken on this timeless night, Just river’s whisper, ancient and profound. The moon maintains her watch of gentle lig...
