I have searched for you in the stillness
of winds that speak without voices,
in the heavy night where shadows weave
a tapestry of forgotten dreams.
Your hands, like rivers carved from light,
slip through my longing, through this fog of distance,
and though I cannot touch you,
I feel the pulse of your absence in my bones.
How quiet the world becomes when your touch is missing,
how the earth stands still, waiting for the sound
of your laughter to return like rain
to the desert.
The stars speak of you in their language of glimmer,
and every leaf, every quiet tremor of the earth
whispers your name as though it were
the only word that existed.
I want to hold you as the moon holds the sea,
as roots grip the soil in their secret embrace,
to taste the silence between your breaths
and let the spaces where you are not
be filled with the aching music of love.
What is this life, if not the endless pursuit
of the tender mystery you carry in your heart?
In the quiet hours when the sky blushes
with the first touch of dawn,
I will wait for you in the hollows of the wind,
in the spaces where only we exist—
silent, eternal, whole.
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Just a draft, not sure I even like it....