2024 August #009. Veiled beneath the blush of dawn, silhouettes unfold, Their feathers etched in time's embrace, a story left untold. Amidst the chaos, patterns dance, a silent serenade, For in the chaos, beauty’s birthed, and life's grand tapestry is made.
Upon the canvas, lines converge, as whispers turned to song, Whirling, twirling, gently they merge, where they truly belong. Not one alike, each stroke unique, a flock in sweet refrain, Beneath the surface, mysteries peek, in every textured grain.
Wings of thought take silent flight, in hues of softest rose, A sight too tender for the light, yet fiercely it juxtaposes. The essence of becoming lies, in shapes that bend and flow, Reflected in the mirror of the skies — a dance of ebb and glow.
Crafted with a reverent hand, where shadows softly cling, An artful journey, vast and grand, where flamingos dare to sing. They rise, they fall, in rhythm’s thrall, with life's persistent call, A testament to nature's squall, embracing one and all.
For every mark upon the scene, a moment’s breath away, Speaks to the places we have been, and dreams that might just stay. Through veils of pink, reality winks, at the artistry of the mind, A testament to the brink, of the forms we seek and find.
