Bisikan

 Whispers by the Riverbank

By the quiet river, life unfolds gently.

Sheep graze where the grass grows thick and green, 

brought by a silent farmer—

a man   from  neighbor ing country,

who walks the land like one who knows its stories.

The wok wok birds call in the distance,

a lone ruff moves with quiet grace,

and under the water's calm,

fish glide like forgotten dreams.

The river flows on,

carrying the weight of memory

but never burdened by it.

It remembers the great flood,

the stillness after,

and the small kindness of those who watched and waited.

Even now,

as I sip my morning coffee,

the breeze carries old songs.

I listen.

And in that moment,

I, too, become part of the river's remembering.