A tale unfolds where two rivers meet, beneath an ancient willow’s shade. A young poet once carved verses on its bark, dreaming of love and distant stars. Years passed, storms weathered the tree, yet the words remained—faint but enduring. Travelers would pause, tracing the letters, wondering about hands that wrote them. One autumn, a woman came, her fingers brushing the grooves. She smiled, recognizing the handwriting of a boy she’d loved in youth. The willow whispered in the wind, weaving pas...
