The fleeting brush of time and space
leaves behind a quiet trace,
a hand extended barely there,
a fleeting moment we both share.
Through fleeting touch a world begins,
the light shines brighter from within.
We hold the pieces, never hold,
quiet fire that fills the soul.
Through whispered winds the echoes call,
reminders of the rise and fall,
each fragile bond, a
fleeting thread
woven from the lives we've led.
A moment held in silent grace,
forever etched we can't erase.
Through
fleeting touch a world begins,
the light shines brighter from within.
We hold
the pieces, never hold,
a quiet fire that fills the soul.