BeyondBrush

We met beneath the whispering trees,
At Roots Café, with chai and breeze.
The sky was soft, the canvas bare—
I doubted if the crowd would care.

But there she was, my oldest mate,
Smiling, calm, defying fate.
And there She sat—my workday star,
Her laughter echoing near and far.
A third appeared, from Synchrony days,
With curious eyes and thoughtful gaze.

Three hearts, three souls, my gentle crew,
Enough to shade my world in hue.
I picked my brush, though stress ran deep,
My strokes were shy, my lines half-sleep.
But they kept drawing, wild and free,
Their joy began to color me.

We talked like mad, the laughter flew,
The worries faded, as laughter grew.
Then four more joined, the circle spread—
Like spilled paint merging thread by thread.
Strangers peeped and asked us, “Why?”
“What’s this joy you’ve painted in the sky?”

The clock? It lost all sense of time,
Two hours bloomed into three sublime.
And I just sat there, heart aglow,
In all the light these souls could throw.
Intellect danced with soul and art,
The kind of talk that warms your heart.

It wasn’t just a painting spree—
It was a glimpse of who I’m meant to be.
And as I packed my brushes tight,
I wished this warmth would stretch the night.
A prayer, a whisper to the air:
“May I keep finding souls this rare.” 🖌️✨