A stream meanders through the mossy stones,

Murmuring secrets in forgotten tones.

It tells of rains that fell on distant hills,

Of silent nights and morning daffodils.

A traveler pauses by its gentle flow,

To rest his limbs and let his worries go.

He hears a tale of time’s relentless pace,

Reflected in the water’s crystal face.

The brook flows on, both constant and yet new,

A timeless lesson, peaceful, pure, and true.