A Moment Gone, Yet Not Alone.

A trickle carves the stone with grace,
Soft hands that shape a silent place.
No need for thunder, rage, or roar;
The stillest streams can wear the shore.

Ferns lean low, and shadows bend
As light and time begin to blend.
The rocks draw close, like ancient kin,
To watch the stream slip soft within.
Its velvet song on mossy skin
Stirs secrets trees have locked within.

A golden flicker lights the pool,
Where shadows lace the air so cool.
It feels as though time lost its name,
And paused to watch this gentle flame.
The water’s touch is slow and kind,
A balm to soothe the roaming mind.
Beneath the weight of branch and stone,
The woodland breathes in undertone.

It’s here the heart forgets to race,
And simply watches water trace
A memory carved in leaf and stone,
A moment gone, yet not alone.