In the quiet mornings,
they gather-
four hearts woven into one rhythm.
A father's hands,steady and worn,
lifting tiny feet toward the sky,
while a daughter's laughter
fills the room they built together.
The granddaughter clutches dreams
......
In the quiet mornings,
they gather-
four hearts woven into one rhythm.
A father's hands,steady and worn,
lifting tiny feet toward the sky,
while a daughter's laughter
fills the room they built together.
The granddaughter clutches dreams
......