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In the vast field of beings, some are stars casting kindness,
Somehow born with a mirage that drips mercy of its own accord.
They traverse valleys and deserts, spreading, unwavering, their pure essence,
While others, with kindness held beneath the leaves of the heart, offer it hesitantly.
They are generosity embodied, with palms open towards the sky,
Even when the sky is barren, asking nothing in return.
They do not demand we understand, as they breathe droplets of color into us,
That penetrate the veins of life, turning macadam into a silk road.
They are luminous beacons; in tumultuous times, they are our anchor,
And perhaps we too, are a haven for a moment in this ballet of fate.
Then, the storm passes, and each raises their sails to catch another wind,
New paths on the horizon, while desires twinkle behind like light on the waves.
They are the ones who ignite the light in unknown depths,
Awakening in the soul what it had forgotten it could illuminate:
Hope, joy, the delicate, magical thread of an unreal connection,
Silent proofs that souls can communicate more than the spoken word.
By their side, we find peace, stringing thoughts like beads on a thread,
And the heart, like a placid ocean, forgets to ripple in turmoil.
These people, whom we discover not with eyes, but with our whole being,
Though we try, we cannot forget them, for their imprint has shaped us.
With very few we resonate in the absolute, in perfect harmony,
And those found must be kept, not let them slip away
For they are our solace, the sweet balm of our days,
We are the clay of the same soul and the hearth of the same inner flame.

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