A New Ethos Grows

A new ethos grows, a vine untamed,
Weaving through cracks in the city's old stone.
Not in grand halls where power's proclaimed,
But in the hearts where seeds of kindness are sown.

It climbs past windows where loneliness sighs,
Whispering hope in the language of light.
In calloused hands that mend what society denies,
And eyes that see beauty where shadows take flight.

This ethos is not a doctrine nor creed,
But a song the soul hums in the face of despair.
A symphony born from a collective need,
A tapestry woven with threads we all share.

It blooms in the laughter of children at play,
In the stranger who offers a hand on the street.
In the artist who paints a brighter day,
And the teacher who nurtures the knowledge so sweet.

This ethos is fire, a gentle, warm flame,
That melts the cold cages of greed and of strife.
It whispers of unity, etching a new name
On the weathered facade of a fractured life.

It gathers the voices, a chorus so strong,
That echoes through canyons where silence has reigned.
A symphony rising where discord belonged,
A melody played on the strings of the changed.

This ethos, oh love, is a garden we tend,
Where compassion takes root and forgiveness takes hold.
A promise whispered, a future we mend,
A new ethos growing, a story untold.