A Whisper from the Valley
Submitted By: Dr. Veeresh Pujari
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In the cradle of the hills, a hush of green, where secrets hang in mist, rarely seen. A ribbon of a stream, a silver sigh, mirrors a single, wandering sky. The ancient oaks, with gnarled, patient hands, have rooted stories in the sleeping lands. And through the ferns, a breath begins to stir, a soft and silent, gentle, woodland blur. This is the soundless language, understood, a tale told by the wind inside the wood. It speaks of sun-warmed rock and winter's chill, of memories that linger, breathing still. The valley's whisper, carried on the breeze, is older than the oldest living trees. It speaks of quiet strength, of earth's own art, and settles peace inside a waiting heart.
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Reg ID: BF25-5471
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