Like rivers flowing to the endless sea,
Our souls converge in life's eternal dance,
Some touch like morning dew upon the lea,
Then vanish with the sun's first golden glance.
As seasons change and blossoms come and go,
Friends gather 'round our heart's most sacred bower,
Some stay like oak trees weathering wind and snow,
While others fade like petals in an hour.
Yet blessed are those rare souls who understand
The silent language of the heart's deep well,
Who offer not just ear, but gentle hand,
And know our unspoken stories we would tell.
O God, source of all this sacred art,
I thank You for each soul that touched my heart,
From stranger's smile to friendship's truest part,
All threads within life's tapestry that you are.
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