A river glides through the land, murmuring secrets in undertones, a delicate play of light and shadow, where dreams flow amongst the currents.

The banks cradle life in whispers, of rustling reeds and dragonflies, a canvas painted by the seasons, where harmony thrives beneath the surface.

Find me here, where the water flows, where time slips softly between fingers— a timeless beauty in its transit, imprinted in the sighs of the wind.

• Sara Teasdale