Align

Align

In the quiet of a morning tide,
the gulls align their wings with the wind,
each feather a line drawn on the sky—
a silent pact between air and wing.

Streets of London hum beneath the tram,
cobblestones aligning with the rhythm
of footsteps that echo the city's pulse,
where past and present find their measure.

Hearts, too, seek the quiet geometry
of thoughts that line up like constellations—
not forced, but found in the soft overlap
of hope and patience, of doubt and belief.

When the mind aligns with breath,
the world settles into a gentle order,
a subtle harmony that whispers,
“Here, you belong.”

So let us align our hopes with deeds,
our dreams with the steady beat of time—
for in alignment lies the quiet strength
to walk forward, together, true.