Sometimes a passing phrase cuts through the noise of the day and stays with you. I recently came across a video shared by @modelstrangers on Threads , where a man—soft-spoken but resolute—spoke about the loneliness we often feel even when surrounded by millions, and the deep importance of respecting every person, no matter their role in society. His words reminded me of how easy it is to walk past others without truly seeing them. And how powerful it can be when we choose to see. This poem was born from that moment of reflection. Walk-On-By Society Millions of footsteps echo, side by side, but hearts pass like shadows— unseen, untouched, eyes fixed forward, never meeting yours. In the crowd, you could scream, and still be an empty whisper. P hoto by Mehmet Turgut Kirkgoz : https://www.pexels.com/photo/elderly-man-with-a-broom-and-a-dustpan-19408637/ This is a walk-on-by world, where silence is safer than kindness, where pain is private and everyone is "fine." But listen— n...

It was only yesterday that I discovered a group of butterflies is called a kaleidoscope, and I had to put that in a poem. So I started thinking about all the beautiful, strange, and poetic names we give to gatherings of animals—murders, parliaments, flamboyances—and how each one carries a kind of quiet unity. This poem is what came out of that wondering, and maybe a little loneliness too.  The Ones Who Gather A kaleidoscope of butterflies, turning air into stained glass, wings brushing wings in a hush of color— they move as one, a prayer held aloft by sunlight. A murder of crows circles the edge of dusk, black-threaded thoughts sewn into the hem of sky. Even in omen, they arrive together. A parliament of owls sits in the cathedral of trees, silent but listening, wisdom not as one voice but many held in counsel. A pod of dolphins— spindrift and shimmer, laughing through salt and wave, mapping the world with echoes answered. A mischief of rats in the alley’s forgotten script, bol...