The Subtle Echo of Ancient Moss

Where the sun barely dares to peek,
On stone smooth from millennia and rain,
An emerald carpet, without a squeak,
Lays down its ancient, humble reign.
No drum beats out a deep sound,
But in its fibers, slow rhythm descends,
A vital current, pure and profound,
That wakes the beat where life transcends.
It drinks the mist of forgotten years,
A gentle veil upon root and stone,
Its memories, silent and held fears,
Survive time’s passage, overgrown.
Oh, humble moss, a lesson deep,
In your green grace, so tranquil and low,
A secret you guard while we sleep,
The ancient pulse of life’s steady flow.