In the quiet hush of morning’s light,
Time gently stirs, unseen, unfelt,
Whispers of dreams in fading night,
As moments pass where silence dwelt.
The ticking hands in steady race,
Mark stories written in the air,
Yet in each tick, a gentle grace,
A dance of life beyond compare.
The shadows stretch as day unfolds,
A tapestry of sun and shade,
Time’s gentle hand in silence molds,
The fleeting hours that love has made.
As twilight casts its tender veil,
And stars ignite the velvet skies,
Time’s endless journey sets to sail,
In whispered truths and soft goodbyes.