Each word we speak, each thought we share,
A ripple born in quiet air,
A thread that winds through boundless space,
A mark we leave in time’s embrace.
A gentle act, a fleeting smile,
Unseen, yet carried mile by mile,
It touches lives, then drifts from view,
But echoes on, both soft and true.
In moments still, where hearts entwine,
These ripples cross the threads of time,
They spread beyond our fleeting gaze,
To light a path through distant days.
So may we walk with tender grace,
And speak with care, in soft embrace,
For every ripple that we start,
Becomes a pulse within the heart.
reflections of an unquiet mind 