Whispers of the Horizon

 Whispers of the Horizon

Beneath the velvet stretch of night,
Where stars like lanterns softly gleam,
I wander through the folds of light,
Chasing echoes of a dream.
The moon, a silver sentinel,
Keeps watch where shadows softly creep,
And every heartbeat’s quiet swell
Sings stories I was meant to keep.

The wind, a wandering troubadour,
Brings whispers from forgotten lands,
It hums of rivers, cliffs, and shores,
And traces maps with unseen hands.
I close my eyes and let it guide,
Through forests where the secrets hide,
Through valleys where the rivers weep,
And over mountains, jagged, steep.

A scent of rain, of earth, of pine,
Mingles with the scent of time,
Each drop a verse, a hidden sign,
A rhythm, subtle, so sublime.
The nightbird calls a lonely tune,
A silver note beneath the moon,
It trembles on the breath of night,
And carries sorrow into light.

I meet the dawn in trembling hues,
A palette bleeding soft and bright,
The morning hums its tender news,
And chases off the lingering night.
The sun, a painter bold and free,
Strokes amber trails across the sea,
Each ray a brush that sketches dreams,
Where reality and fantasy meet in streams.

In quiet towns, the bells awake,
Their tolls like echoes in my chest,
The laughter of a child, the ache
Of old doors closing, long at rest.
I walk the streets where shadows play,
Where yesterday and now entwine,
And feel the weight of passing days,
Each one a verse in this design.

Love drifts in on silver wings,
In gestures soft, in fleeting eyes,
It dances, sings, and softly clings
To corners of our hearts and skies.
The warmth of touch, the fleeting hand,
The silent promise, unspoken, grand,
It weaves a thread through time and space,
A quiet echo, a tender grace.

Yet sorrow walks with steady pace,
Its footprints deep in memory,
It carves its hollow, subtle place,
A shadowed song, a minor key.
But even grief is tempered light,
A prism bending through the night,
And through its cracks the colors gleam,
A tapestry of hope and dream.

Beneath the clouds, beneath the stars,
I feel the pulse of endless skies,
A thousand miles, a million scars,
Each one a tale of compromise.
The roads I’ve walked, the bridges burned,
The lessons life has harshly learned,
All spiral in this cosmic dance,
A fleeting glimpse, a second chance.

I lift my hands to hold the air,
To touch the moments just out of reach,
To catch the echoes everywhere,
To learn the truths the silences teach.
For life is neither harsh nor kind,
It is a mirror to the mind,
Reflecting joy, despair, and strife,
The endless wonder of this life.

And so I wander, never still,
Through rivers deep and endless skies,
Through forests dark and sunlit hill,
Through laughter, tears, and whispered cries.
Each step a poem, each breath a song,
Each moment fleeting, yet lifelong,
And as the horizon folds to night,
I trace its edges with quiet light.

For in this journey, there’s a peace,
A rhythm neither lost nor found,
A place where restless whispers cease,
A place beyond both time and sound.
And though the road may twist and bend,
The poem stretches without end,
A living story, bright and true,
The universe, reflected through.