The Echo of Laughter

There is a place where echoes dwell,
Where joy once bloomed like a wildflower spell.
A playground of moments, a garden of sound,
Where laughter lives long after it's found.

It begins with a giggle, small and shy,
Like a bird testing the weight of the sky.
A child’s delight on a rusted swing,
Feet kicking clouds as the world takes wing.

Then comes the chorus—friends in a chase,
Breathless shouts in a fast-paced race.
Their voices collide in a symphony bright,
Sunbeams dancing in ripples of light.

At family tables, the echoes expand,
The clatter of dishes, a grandfather's hand.
Uncles with stories too tall to believe,
Aunties with eyes that crinkle like leaves.

The walls remember the crescendos of glee,
The tickle fights under a sprawling oak tree.
The shriek of surprise in a birthday reveal,
The gasp of wonder when dreams become real.

But laughter, like seasons, can quiet and fade,
Replaced by the hush of a room remade.
The house grows still, yet if you listen close,
The echoes remain like the scent of a rose.

For laughter is more than a moment’s delight—
It lingers like fireflies blinking at night.
Each giggle, each cackle, each uncontrollable roar
Leaves a mark that the silence can't ignore.

So lean in, press your ear to the air,
You’ll hear it—the echoes are still there.
Not ghosts, but reminders that joy never dies,
It bounces forever 'neath wide, endless skies.

- Khushi Kaul