Ancient Winds of Time

Ancient winds of time, a whisper in the night,
that sweep through valleys, crest the highest peak,
and wane with tales of love, of joy, of plight.
In whispers low, they speak, they softly seek.

The stars have seen the ages come and go,
their light a guide through corridors of dark.
In shadowed realms where only shadows grow,
they sparkle, blazing trails, a tiny spark.

O ceaseless dance of time, both cruel and kind,
you carve the mountains, wear the sands away,
in cycles old that mortal eyes can't bind,
as seasons fold and turn to endless day.

Yet in the ebb, the flow, we find life's rhyme;
through ancient winds there breathes the song of time.