We, woven through others’ eyes,
Meld in brief, trembling encounters.
Suddenly, insights spark where souls collide,
By the fleeting dance of hearts mid-July.
In silence, we seek the unspoken;
In sounds, we distort the still.
In junctures, assumptions fly away.
Moments that bind, then vanish, whole,
Holding in them tales of lives replete.

Like the story of Babel, a divine art,
The designer kept in each soul,
A key, when combined, unlocks the mysteries
of Life.
We, so often vicariously one with the other,
Coalesce into moments of interaction
For insights.