Marginalia Bloom

[Verse 1]
Dust motes dance in sunbeams, a quiet, golden grace,
Where strangers' secrets find their timeless, sacred place.
A penciled question, faint as a canyon's distant haze,
Echoes a thought, through time's slow, winding ways.

[Chorus]
Oh, the marginalia bloom, a language I can read,
Seeds of wisdom scattered, a resilient, living creed.

[Verse 2]
A tiny sketch of sky, above a paragraph you'd marked,
The silent language spoken, where old truths are stark.
A fossilized idea, pressed between the yellowed leaf,
Offering solace, a quiet, shared belief.

[Chorus]
Oh, the marginalia bloom, a language I can read,
Seeds of wisdom scattered, a resilient, living creed.

[Bridge]
The dry air hums with echoes, a mountain's quiet song,
A silent current pulling, where we truly belong.
This bedrock truth, rising from the page,
Turns a new, resilient stage.

[Chorus]
Oh, the marginalia bloom, a language I can read,
Seeds of wisdom scattered, a resilient, living creed.

[Outro]
Notes on the strata, blooming in the light,
Guiding forward, into morning bright.