In the quiet whispers of the dawn,
Where shadows play with fleeting light,
A dance begins, both soft and drawn,
In the heart’s theater, a delicate sight.

Through autumn’s gold and winter’s white,
The tapestry of time weaves stories untold,
Memories sewn in the fabric of night,
Echoes of warmth in the evening’s cold.

Spring awakens with a gentle sigh,
Breathing life into the silent earth,
While summer’s laughter fills the sky,
In a symphony of rebirth.

Yet, as the seasons turn and fade,
Time’s dance remains a fleeting grace,
A waltz through memories gently laid,
In the sacred halls of the soul’s embrace.