Threads of Light

Beneath a sky stitched with threads of silver,

a single bird dares the tide of dawn.

The world hums soft, a breath between beats,

as if waiting for the echoes of an untold story.

Among trees that curve like old melodies,

the wind carries secrets in uneven strokes.

A river, shimmering in its own rhythm,

etches time into the earth’s supple skin.

Then comes the turn—

a moment sharp and unyielding.

The clouds part, light pools in the cracks of stone,

and shadows dissolve like forgotten fears.

Here, the pulse quickens.

The ordinary becomes its own myth:

a petal falling in slow rebellion,

the warmth of soil as it meets bare hands,

the taste of rain, heavy and infinite.

Somewhere distant, the sea leans forward,

its tides eager to touch the horizon.

And in this fleeting, fragile stillness,

the world feels stitched together by longing—

not to endure but to thrive,

to sing its fragmented, luminous song.