relation

13.01.2025 | Montag Bomonti

The Giver, an old tree, weathered and wise,
bows to the Receiver, with questioning eyes.
Memories pour like rivers untamed,
a burden, a gift, a world unclaimed.

The ache of pain, the burst of delight,
transferred in silence, shadow, and light.
Through the hands, a spark, an eternal tether,
one soul whispers, and two souls weather.

The Receiver sees more than they can show,
holding the weight of what others won’t know.
And yet, in their home, where the baby cries,
a bond awakens, unseen to blind eyes.

The child, untouched by the sameness’ decree,
holds a future of wild possibility.
In tender moments, the Receiver gives
a fragment of memory — a reason to live.

Hold close the hues, the vivid, the rare,
in every shadow, a brilliance to share.
Through memory’s touch, through hands that bind,
the soul awakens, no longer confined.

Snow swirls wildly, unbound by time,
Each flake a moment, uniquely divine.
In the unpredictable, life’s truth is born,
A vibrant world, where none are forlorn.