Whisper of the Smokies

In the cradle of dawn, the Smokies wake,
Wrapped in mist, where spirits ache.
A silver hush, the valleys keep,
Dreams held softly, mountains steep.

The rivers hum a soulful tune,
Dancing wild beneath the moon.
Leaves murmur secrets to the breeze,
Stories old among the trees.

A sunbeam cracks the morning veil,
Through ancient oaks, it carves a trail.
Shadows scatter, the ridges glow,
Life unfurls in the depths below.

Here, the wild heart learns to sing,
With every rustle, every wing.
In the Smokies’ arms, we find our place,
A fleeting moment, nature’s grace.