The stones recall forgotten years,
Yet lose their cracks, dissolve their fears.
For beauty writes where time decays,
And builds new dawn from broken days.

The roses hush, the winds lie low,
They circle where your footsteps go.
Each shadow fades, each silence gleams,
Awake within your woven dreams.

Where ivy clings, the wall is true,
It learns its strength by holding you.
Though worn with age, it seems renewed,
By grace that turns all solitude.