In twilight's blush, with silence loud and clear,
The crunchy wind doth whisper through the trees,
Where shadows dance in sunlight’s golden leer,
And life's bright pulse drifts soft in echoed pleas.
A river freezes, flowing swift yet slow,
As time unravels under moon’s embrace,
The sun, a ghost that bathes the world in glow,
While death, a jester, wears life’s vibrant face.
As fiery clouds in frosted stillness weep,
A feathered weight upon the heart’s frail beat,
Eclipsed by longing, memories buried deep,
Where dreams dissolve like sugar on the street.
In every heartbeat, chaos finds its grace,
And bitter honey sweetens time and space.
In shadows bright, the sun begins to die,
A blazing chill that cloaks the afternoon,
While velvet whispers of the night arise,
Inviting peace beneath a silver moon.
The vibrant stillness of a crowded space,
Where echoing silence dances hand in hand,
And mortal breaths defy their fleeting grace,
As twilight sinks into a velvet strand.
For good unravels in its wicked guise,
A playful jest, yet solemn, draped in light,
Two faces wear the same celestial eyes,
A primal waltz of dark embraced by bright.
In death, we find the sun's rebirth anew,
As earthly dreams dissolve in morning's dew.
### The Diamond of Humanity It was a frosty December afternoon in Manhattan when the glittering windows of "Gemma's Jewels," a small but luxurious jewelry shop nestled between soaring skyscrapers, caught the eyes of passersby. The holiday lights reflected off the glass like butterflies fleeing from winter’s grasp. Inside, a warm ambiance welcomed guests, and the sweet scent of pine wafted in from the decorated tree in the corner, beckoning a sense of festivity. That day marked the annual Christmas trunk show featuring rare diamonds from Africa and the Middle East. As the red velvet curtains parted to reveal the treasures, the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting an ethereal glow over the room. The table was laden with diamonds of every cut and clarity: radiant, pear, emerald, and more—each one a silent witness to the stories they would tell. Among the gathering crowd, diversity was the common thread. There was Mr. Edwin Johnson, a well-dressed banker whose lustrous ambition glimmered in his eyes. He sought the perfect engagement ring for his girlfriend, Sarah, a schoolteacher with wildflowers in her curly hair. Nearby, a woman named Leela, an artist draped in bohemian fabrics, browsed the gems with a wistfulness that hinted at past dreams of grandeur now long abandoned. In the corner, Henry and Mary, an older couple, were quietly analyzing a diamond necklace—just moments before they’d been arguing about the practicality of it. They represented decades of love, and yet the weight of their shared history began to feel burdensome. As the discussions wove through the air like the gentle notes of a Christmas carol, a group of friends burst in, laughter ringing through the shop. They were young professionals, excited and carefree, eager to purchase a unique piece that screamed individuality. Yet, as they picked up a chunky diamond ring, their voices lowered, revealing insecurities masked by bravado—allowing the diamonds to jocularly compete with their self-worth. As conversations swirled, the essence of gem cutting became a metaphor for the diverse personalities around the table. Each diamond, perfected through the artistry of grit and pressure, echoed the challenges and triumphs of the shoppers. A conversation sparked between Edwin and Leela, who began musing about how, much like the diamonds, people are shaped by life’s circumstances—their edges polished by experience, their flaws only adding to their uniqueness. “Isn’t it strange?” Leela said, her fingers brushing over a perfectly cut diamond. “Each facets reflects light differently, just as we all have different ways of reflecting and absorbing experiences. Perhaps our true value lies not only in our brightness but in our imperfections.” Edwin nodded but then hesitated, glancing at the engagement ring on display. “But does that make us less worthy of love or success? Don’t we seek cut and clarity as a measure of desirability?” Before Leela could respond, the glass case containing the finest diamonds suddenly shattered, a crackling explosion that rendered the room silent. Gasps erupted, and glass shards danced through the air like falling stars. In the midst of the chaos, Henry and Mary stood frozen, their argument paused as they looked into each other's eyes, the distraction forcing them to reconsider their relationship. “Perhaps,” Henry murmured, “we’ve focused too much on the diamonds and not enough on the essence of our bond.” At that moment, amidst shards reflecting light, the dia-burst served as a metaphorical awakening. The unexpected fragmentation gathered everyone’s attention—realizing that beneath the shimmering allure of gems was a deeper narrative of human connection, vulnerability, and acceptance. As the shop owner rushed to assess the damage, Edwin turned to Leela, “You were right. It’s not the diamond’s cut that matters, but the story it tells. Plus, we all wear our own kind of jewels—battle scars, love notes, and dreams.” The crowd began to chatter along new lines, discussions shifting from clever purchases to reflections on the human condition. This end-of-year gathering uncovered profound truths hidden beneath their desires. They explored their insecurities, aspirations, and the commonality that bound them, regardless of class, caste, or color. Amidst the wreckage of glass, a sense of unity emerged: a newfound acknowledgment of their shared journey through life’s similes of sparkling facades. They left the shop filled with a deeper understanding of their personal stories and how to cherish the beauty found in both diamonds and flawed humanity. The trunk show didn’t end with the holidays—rather, it marked a new beginning, punctuated by shattered glass and redefined connections, echoing a profound truth: We are all cut and shaped by life, and it is in our imperfections that we truly shine.
HAPPY SOLSTICE PEOPLE
