Whispers of the Passing Days
The days drift softly, like leaves on a stream,
Fading whispers in a fleeting dream.
Sunrise paints the sky in hues of gold,
As time’s gentle hand unfolds stories untold.
Morning glimmers with promise anew,
Afternoon blooms in colors true,
Evening whispers in violet hue,
Marking the world’s eternal view.
Mountains stand in silent grace,
Forests dance in nature’s embrace,
Oceans sing with endless grace,
A beautiful world in time and space.
So let us cherish each passing day,
Beneath the sun’s warm, tender ray,
For in this world’s magnificent sway,
Beauty and time gently stay.
Copyright © Taiya Julie | Year Posted 2025
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