Secret Architects
They gather in a room unseen,
Where futures drift and form between.
Decisions whispered shape the world,
Yet none can see the plans unfurled.
The power lies in hidden hands—
But deeper still, in no one’s plans.
The vines ascend the trellis blue,
Morning glories bathed in dew.
They climb by instinct, twist by trust,
No need for order, map, or must.
From root to sky, their spiral grows—
A truth that only being knows.
