The Tapestry of Time and Energy

In the weave of life, where moments blend,
A poem for you, my dear friend,
On VocalMedia, where words take flight,
I pen this ode to your reading light.

Nikola Tesla whispered, time's but a guise,
Yet here we are, in its sweet surprise,
You give a slice of your illusion,
To read my words, in this confusion.

Time, a currency in our shared dream,
You spend it here, or so it would seem,
But let's not dwell on what's not real,
For in this space, our spirits heal.

Thank you, dear reader, for your time,
A dance with words, in rhythm, in rhyme,
Though we might never shake hands or meet,
Your presence here makes my heart complete.

Energy, they say, can't be made or lost,
In every word, a force, a cost,
You open up, receive this flow,
Of gratitude, from me, you know.

Let me spin a tale, of Christina, the scribe,
Who with her pen, could make hearts thrive,
Jim and Brittany, readers so keen,
Found in her words, a dream serene.

Christina wrote of skies and seas,
Of love that binds, and hearts at ease,
Jim, a thinker, deep and wise,
Saw in her words, the truth, no lies.

Brittany, with spirit bright,
Found strength in Christina's fight,
Against the norms, the daily grind,
In every verse, a piece of mind.

They formed a bond, though miles apart,
Linked by words, a work of art,
Christina's energy, in lines so fine,
Fed their souls, like sunlight, divine.

"Time's an illusion," she'd often say,
"But in these moments, let's not stray,
From what's real, the energy we share,
A connection pure, beyond compare."

Jim, inspired, started to write,
His own tales under the moon's soft light,
Brittany, with her vibrant flair,
Painted stories in the air.

So here's to you, my reader, my friend,
In this dance of words, let's not pretend,
That time's just a fleeting, playful guest,
In the grand exchange of energy's zest.

For every like, every moment spent,
Is a thread in the tapestry, intricately pent,
Thank you, for being part of this tale,
Together, we set the narrative sail.

In the end, remember this, my dear,
Every poem, every cheer,
Is but energy, flowing free,
From me to you, eternally.