Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, An ancient oak relates a stream Of tales from ages long since past, Where time’s firm boundaries do not last. A traveler paused, with weary soul, And felt the forest make him whole. Each rustling leaf, a whispered word, Of wisdom from the earth conferred. He learned of love that never dies, Seen reflected in the night’s clear eyes. Of courage born from humble strife, The quiet resilience of life. Now when the western winds blow low, You’ll hear his story,...
