Issaquah Adventures

In Issaquah’s forest, soft and deep, where moss like memory falls asleep,

A silver stream hums ancient songs - of where the quiet heart belongs.

The cedars whisper names of old - Their roots in earth, their stories bold,

And every leaf that twists in air - feels like a secret, almost prayer.

Light drips gold through emerald lace - time slows down, forgets its pace,

And if you listen, you may find…the forest knows your truest mind. 🌿