The Bridge of Living Words

The Bridge of Living Words

Beneath a sky of amber light,
Where day fades gently into night,
A group of poets gathers near,
With open hearts and minds sincere.

No fame they chase, no noise they seek,
Just wisdom wrapped in words unique,
Lines like rivers softly flow,
Carrying feelings down below.

They bring no crowns, they wear no gold,
Their treasure lies in tales they hold,
Ink becomes their trusted guide,
Across the world, their thoughts they ride.

They speak of storms, they speak of rain,
Of silent joy, of hidden pain,
Of quiet moons that watch the sea,
Of dreams that whisper, “Let us be.”

Each poet stands upon the edge,
Where truth and imagination pledge,
To meet like hands that lightly touch,
Saying little, meaning much.

Their voices rise like morning birds,
Building bridges out of words,
From sorrow’s land to laughter’s shore,
From fear’s closed gate to hope’s wide door.

Some write of mountains strong and tall,
That teach courage to us all,
Some write of seeds beneath the ground,
That bloom when love is finally found.

They share their verses, soft or bold,
Not seeking praise, nor being told,
That they must change their honest art,
For poetry must match the heart.

Together, in that fading light,
They turn the dusk into pure white,
For every stanza glows like fire,
Feeding wonder, lifting higher.

Their community is not a place,
But every word they choose to trace;
Not bound by walls, nor locked by gate,
For poetry does not separate.

A bridge of meaning stands upright,
Made from truth, from time, from night,
And every poet, near or far,
Shines on it like a guiding star.

So here they gather, day by day,
To give the world a softer way,
In every line, they gently sow,
A thousand paths for hearts to grow.

For poets build what cannot fall—
A world of words that speaks to all. 🖋️✨