A gentle stream meanders through the mossy stones, Murmuring tales of forgotten dreams and ancient tones. Silver fish dart ‘neath the willow’s graceful shade, Where time stands still in the tranquil glade. A lone traveler pauses to drink from its clear flow, Hearing echoes of poets from long ago. The water sings of mountains touched by snow, Of seasons passing, swift and slow. Dragonflies dance on ripples, light and free, Bearing secrets between the earth and sea. Twilight descends with a sof...
