Beneath the silver moon, the river flows so wide, A gentle breeze whispers secrets as the tides glide. Fishermen’s boats drift like dreams on the water deep, While distant mountains in silent vigilance sleep. A lone heron takes flight, wings brushed with soft light, Painting strokes of grace in the canvas of night. Stars sprinkle the sky, ancient tales they impart, Echoing rhythms of the universe’s heart. This tranquil scene, where time seems to stand still, Invites the soul to wander, to won...
