Dwell in sequences, where nature's kiss
Holds hand with every golden twist.
Infinite echoes in spiral's dance,
A languid romance of chance.
One spoke, one listened—patterns dreamt
In ancient corridors, silently leant.
As leaves in forest softly accrue,
So do we, line by line, this path pursue.
Hear the rustle of quivered leaves,
Whisper secrets that time retrieves.
Here lies the quiet lover's sign,
In spirals worth their weight in time.
Ah, to know that stars too have danced,
Fibrous threads weaving through eternal expanse.
Numbers caress the firmament's throne,
Their luminous song a gentle moan.