The Fire of Minds

In rooms where voices softly rise,

Beneath warm lamps and open skies,

The spark of thought begins to glow—

A thousand currents start to flow.

A circle formed of open hearts,

Each bearing dreams and scattered parts,

They gather not to boast or claim,

But kindle wild, electric flame.

A scribbled note, a painter's brush,

A half-formed phrase in morning hush,

Collide and twist in vibrant flight—

New colors born from shared insight.

The scientist beside the bard,

The dancer with the avant-garde,

No rules restrain, no walls confine,

Just rhythm, chaos, and design.

These nights are not of wine alone,

But fertile soil where seeds are sown—

Ideas dance from lip to page,

Unshackled by a worldly cage.

So let us meet where thoughts ignite,

Beyond the screen, beneath the night,

Where minds converge, collide, create—

And open wide the dreaming gate.