A gentle stream meanders through the mossy stones, Whispering secrets to the ancient pines. Silver fish dart ‘neath the water’s glass, While sunlight dances in liquid gold. On the bank, a child sits still and listens, Hearing tales of mountains yet unseen. The breeze carries echoes of far-off bells, As twilight paints the sky in hues of dreams. Not a single word is spoken aloud, Yet the heart understands the water’s song— A timeless verse of flow and change, Where all sorrows melt and hopes b...