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Description
The woods wind down a whispered, worn-out path,
And leaves unfurl beneath the day's warm glance.
A world reborn each spring transcends life's wrath;
From bud to brittle branch, all bound to dance.

Each cycle spun, a thread within time's weave,
One song unfolds from seed to fallen tear.
Perhaps the forms we know and fears we grieve,
Are echoes of a self once held so dear.

If eyes were mirrors turned with time's slow sigh,
Would hearts find kinship in a fleeting gleam?
Each touch, each tear, no self nor selfless lie,
But lessons writ upon a cosmic dream.

From gentle hand to deeds of shadowed blight,
The cosmic self may learn on paths entwined.

But where duality casts shades of night,
A boundless truth beyond such frames we find.

No 'you' nor 'me', just currents in the tide,
Each ripple born upon the selfsame sea.
Illusions break where inner truths abide,
A single heart that yearns to wander free.

Perhaps when branches bend with winter's weight,
And lonely frost adorns the barren ground,
We see how every form reflects a fate,
In fleeting shapes, a deeper source is found.

The bird that soars, the worm beneath the stone,
Are facets of a grand, unspoken scheme.
No victory or struggle truly known,
Yet woven in the heart of one vast dream.

With passing winds, we fade from day to night,
Yet in the woven heart, our echo finds
A fleeting sense of kinship and shared woe,
And in this truth, a tender hope takes flight.

We may recall what distant souls still know,
With every dawn unveiled, and fading light.
Let wisdom gleaned from countless forms inspire,
To glimpse the boundless in a dancing fire.

For if division fades from burdened sight,
Perhaps compassion dawns with newfound grace.
We hold each other in the fading light,
And find ourselves reflected in each face.

Description
The woods wind down a whispered, worn-out path,
And leaves unfurl beneath the day's warm glance.
A world reborn each spring transcends life's wrath;
From bud to brittle branch, all bound to dance.

Each cycle spun, a thread within time's weave,
One song unfolds from seed to fallen tear.
Perhaps the forms we know and fears we grieve,
Are echoes of a self once held so dear.

If eyes were mirrors turned with time's slow sigh,
Would hearts find kinship in a fleeting gleam?
Each touch, each tear, no self nor selfless lie,
But lessons writ upon a cosmic dream.

From gentle hand to deeds of shadowed blight,
The cosmic self may learn on paths entwined.

But where duality casts shades of night,
A boundless truth beyond such frames we find.

No 'you' nor 'me', just currents in the tide,
Each ripple born upon the selfsame sea.
Illusions break where inner truths abide,
A single heart that yearns to wander free.

Perhaps when branches bend with winter's weight,
And lonely frost adorns the barren ground,
We see how every form reflects a fate,
In fleeting shapes, a deeper source is found.

The bird that soars, the worm beneath the stone,
Are facets of a grand, unspoken scheme.
No victory or struggle truly known,
Yet woven in the heart of one vast dream.

With passing winds, we fade from day to night,
Yet in the woven heart, our echo finds
A fleeting sense of kinship and shared woe,
And in this truth, a tender hope takes flight.

We may recall what distant souls still know,
With every dawn unveiled, and fading light.
Let wisdom gleaned from countless forms inspire,
To glimpse the boundless in a dancing fire.

For if division fades from burdened sight,
Perhaps compassion dawns with newfound grace.
We hold each other in the fading light,
And find ourselves reflected in each face.