India, Sept. 17 -- A thread of moonlight, soft and thin, Slips through stars and settles in- Not made of silk, nor sound, nor name, But something lost, and just the same. It shivers in a breath, a glance, A slow, enchanted kind of dance. It weaves through time, it hums in space, A secret stitched in quiet grace. And somewhere deep in velvet skies, It sways where all the stillness lies- A gentle pull, a whispered beam, That lingers softly in a dream....