A solitary willow stands by the old riverbank, its branches tracing stories on the water’s surface. For centuries, it has witnessed seasons change—spring blossoms, summer storms, autumn gold, and winter silence. Travelers often rest beneath its shade, sharing tales of distant lands. One evening, a young poet carved a verse into its bark: “Roots deep in time, leaves touch the sky; in your gentle sway, eternity sighs.” Now, the willow whispers these words to the wind, weaving dreams for those w...
