The New Mudra Rhythm

The dust remembers every step that came before. A thousand years on this hallowed

floor. We trace the lines, the ancients left in stone.

A story whispered never to be unknown. They say the old ways fade

beneath the screen light, but in our hands we hold the flame burning

bright. We hear the echo in the beat of the heart.

It's not an ending, it's a vibrant new start. Look down,

feel the earth where the roots run deep. Look up, see the future

promises we keep. Don't let the rhythm stop. Don't let the colors fade.