Beneath the moon’s soft silver gleam, An ancient pine shares whispered dreams. Its branches trace the stars above, While telling tales of timeless love. A traveler pauses in the night, To hear its stories, old and bright. Of seasons passed and winds that sing, The eternal song of nature’s ring. Though dawn may break and paths lead on, The whispered wisdom lingers on. In every heart that stops to hear, The forest’s truth, serene and clear.
