The world whispers its secrets
in the quiet moments,
a crooked flower pushing
through cracked pavement,
an old man’s laugh like a melody forgotten,
shadows dancing in soft twilight.

Beauty isn't always bold,
sometimes it hides in the folds of time,
a child's crayon masterpiece,
smeared and bright,
or the warm glow of a streetlamp
on damp earth.

It lingers in the mundane,
the steam rising from morning coffee, ...