Through the whispering pine, In shadows soft and deep, The forest holds its secrets, In silence, strong and steep.
A brook sings soft and low, Its tale of stone and leaf, While sunlight flickers through, In a waltz of joy and grief.
- Ragnar Knutson
Through the whispering pine, In shadows soft and deep, The forest holds its secrets, In silence, strong and steep.
A brook sings soft and low, Its tale of stone and leaf, While sunlight flickers through, In a waltz of joy and grief.