In the quiet whisper of the dawn,
A seed of change begins to grow,
Casting aside the night’s cold shroud,
Embracing the warmth of morning’s glow.
Through the dance of fleeting seasons,
Leaves turn gold, then fade away,
Yet in their fall, new life is born,
A cycle renewed, day by day.
The river’s path, once set in stone,
Carves new trails through rock and time,
A testament to gentle force,
Reshaping all with rhythm and rhyme.
In hearts and minds, the echoes stir,
Of dreams once lost, now taking flight,
Transformation, the silent guide,
Leading us from shadows to light.