Their calloused palms a canvas etched by time.

Each thread a whisper, spun in hues divine,

A careful weave of earth and hearts aligned.

A seedling bends beneath the weight of care,

Its roots entwined, a silent, ancient pact.

No single bloom can rise alone, nor dare

To claim the soil without the forest’s act.

And when the storm arrives, as storms must do,

The branches lean, exchanging strength in kind.

Through shadowed winds and skies of ashen hue,

Their care-full bond withstands what fate designed.

A tender dance, collaboration’s art—

A tapestry that beats as one, one heart.