The Duty and the Choice

Each flower is a favourite;
Every taste of wine, from drops of dew;
All exquisite, none paralled,
In morsels, a chance to be full.

The rush hour of a mind;
All thoughts are of a kind; highways, bright and loud.
Many bring us closer to a truth;
Some fool us further away.

Each conversation, a story’s start;
From fragments of sonder and sound, drawn from far apart -
The duty: to parse the noise from the song
The choice: to join in harmony.