In the gentle dance of morning light,
Life unfolds in quiet prose,
Moments stitched with silver threads,
A tapestry only time knows.
Echoes of laughter, shadows of tears,
Carved into the heart of days,
Stories spun with tender grace,
In the silent, winding maze.
Beneath the canopy of starlit skies,
Dreams take flight on whispered wings,
Carrying hopes through endless night,
To where the soul softly sings.
In the pause between each breath,
Life’s prose gently weaves its tale,
A symphony of fleeting moments,
In the vast, eternal vale.