White In the hush of night where shadows weave,
The deer moves through the moonlit leaves,
A symbol of a quiet grace,
That time and space cannot erase.
With eyes like dawn, they pierce the dark,
A silent, fleeting, graceful arc,
Their steps a whisper on the ground,
In nature's hymn, their voice is found.
"Amar shonar horin chai,"
Tagore’s dream beneath the sky,
A golden deer, wild and free,
A vision of what might yet be.
In their dance beneath the stars,
A lesson etched in silver scars:
To move with purpose, soft and bright,
To find the path within the night.
So let your spirit, like the deer,
Embrace the stillness, conquer fear,
For in the night, with courage clear,
The world unfolds, and dreams draw near.
©twisha ray
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