Ink & Strata

[Verse 1]
The old shop hummed softly, a quiet, deep tide,
Where paper-thin strata held secrets inside.
The keeper, with fingers like driftwood, well-worn,
Would tuck tiny notes where new stories were born.
A quiet rebellion, a whispered exchange,
For fate's silent currents to subtly arrange.

[Chorus]
A folded-up whisper, a fossilized thought,
For a stranger to find, delicately wrought.

[Verse 2]
A riddle of moss on a weathered stone wall,
A recipe found for a coastal sea-call.
A question about strata, a wisdom held deep,
Or a root of warm comfort, for secrets to keep.
Each parchment a strata, a memory unearthed,
A quiet connection, wonderfully birthed.

[Chorus]
A folded-up whisper, a fossilized thought,
For a stranger to find, delicately wrought.

[Bridge]
These small paper tremors, in time’s steady fault,
Reshape the lone heart, without any halt.
A quiet belonging, where roots intertwine,
A gentle reminder, a subtly divine.

[Outro]
The strata keep shifting, the pages still turn,
A hidden deep knowing, for those who will learn.