In closets deep, where shadows play,
Rest garments folded, night and day.
Each thread a tale, a journey spun,
Of days beneath the golden sun.
Silken dreams and cotton sighs,
Colors dance like autumn skies.
Patterns weave a secret lore,
In every stitch, a world to explore.
Woolen warmth on winter eves,
Linen light as summer leaves.
Clothes embrace with gentle grace,
A second skin, our sacred space.
Yet as we don these woven dreams,
We ponder lifeâs unraveling seams.
For in these clothes, both old and new,
Lie whispers of the lives we pursue.