We are the lines that meet at dawn
a farmer’s call, a poet’s song,
A child’s laugh in a crowded street,
each note a thread in a tapestry sweet.
We wear our colors like the sky:
indigo nights and amber light,
each shade a story, deep and bright,
no two the same, yet all aligned.
We are the rivers that converge,
eroding walls with gentle surge
our differences, a bridge, not a divide,
our shared breath, a current wide.
When storms rage loud and shadows rise,
we link our hands beneath the skies,
for in our bond, we find our might:
a single flame, burning bright.
We are the map of what could be
not just me, not just thee,
but we a world stitched heart to heart,
forever whole, never to part.
Would you like me to write another one with a more specific focus, like unity in a community or during hard times?