The Symphony
My favorite sanctuary hums,
Amidst the cacophony of rush,
As souls intertwine and part ways,
In this dance of life's relentless push.
The air is thick with stories,
Voices round like river stones,
Tumbling, turning in their course,
In the quiet chaos they have grown.
Like autumn leaves they gather,
Beneath the watchful gaze of time,
Only to be scattered anew,
As fleeting as a rhyme's soft chime.
The clink of steel on glass,
A melody so clear and bright,
A toast to life's simple pleasures,
Sparkling in the light.
As suddenly as it began,
The rush retreats like a wave,
Leaving behind the echoes,
Of memories we'll save.
Softly, like the first snow's kiss,
Silence reclaims its throne,
In the aftermath of hunger's fray,
We're left quiet, yet not alone.
