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- Edgar Allan Poe

For her this rhyme is penned, whose luminous eyes,

Brightly expressive as the twins of Leda,

Shall find her own sweet name, that, nestling lies

Upon the page, enwrapped from every reader.

...

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verb

To accept something as true; feel sure of the truth of.

I believe that honesty is the best policy, even when it's difficult.

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504 words~3 min read

The Drumbeat Beside the Creek

In a small village nestled between rolling hills and a winding creek, there lived a young girl named Kira. Every evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, she heard a faint drumbeat coming from the creek. The rhythm was steady and soothing, like a heartbeat. The villagers said it was the sound of the earth breathing, but no one dared to find its source. Kira, however, was curious. She asked her grandmother, who told her, "The drumbeat is a reminder that the land is alive. Listen, and it will teach you." Kira decided to follow the sound one night, carrying a small lantern.

She walked along the creek, the drumbeat growing louder. The moonlight danced on the water, and the trees whispered secrets. After a while, she came upon a clearing where an old, moss-covered drum sat beside a flat rock. No one was there, but the drum seemed to beat on its own. Kira approached slowly and placed her hand on the drum. The rhythm changed, matching her own heartbeat. She felt a surge of warmth and understanding. The drum was not just an object; it was a symbol of connection between the people and the land. It reminded her that every living thing shares a common pulse.

Kira returned home and told her grandmother what she had found. The grandmother smiled and said, "The drum has been there for generations, but only those who listen with their hearts can hear its true message. It teaches us that we are part of something larger than ourselves." The next day, Kira brought her friends to the clearing. They sat in a circle around the drum, and each took a turn tapping it gently. The drumbeat echoed through the valley, and the villagers came to see. They realised that the drum was a symbol of unity, bringing the community together in harmony.

After a while, she came upon a clearing where an old, moss-covered drum sat beside a flat rock.

As weeks passed, the drum became a central part of village life. People gathered by the creek every full moon to share stories and play the drum. The rhythm guided their dances and songs, and the children learned to respect the land. Kira understood that the drumbeat was a pattern—a cycle of life, death, and renewal. It reminded them that even in difficult times, the earth's heartbeat continues. The drum was an archetype of the wise elder, teaching patience and gratitude. The villagers no longer feared the unknown; they embraced it as a gift.

One evening, a stranger came to the village and asked about the drum. Kira explained its story, and the stranger listened intently. "This drum holds a powerful moral," the stranger said. "It shows that when we listen to nature, we find our own rhythm. The land speaks to those who are willing to hear." Kira nodded, realising that the drum's message was timeless. The moral was simple: respect the world around you, and you will discover your place in it. The drumbeat beside the creek continued, a steady reminder of the bond between people and the earth.